The United States of Chaos
by booklover4816
Summary: America has a huge secret that very few nations know about. He works tirelessly to keep it hidden, but all that hard work goes down the drain when a frantic Indiana interrupts the world meeting. Now the careful web America spun to hide his children, the states, is being unraveled and America can't stop it. Warnings: State OCs, language.
1. Chapter 1

America feigned listening to the presenter (Whose name he couldn't honestly remember. Was it Slovakia?). His mind was a million miles away as he mindlessly tapped his pencil against the table. Somewhere nearby, England huffed in annoyance. America knew the old man probably figured he was being obnoxious on purpose, but America wasn't even aware he'd been doing it until he heard England huff.

America wanted to sigh, but he couldn't. He knew England was going to say something, interrupting Slavonia? (America still couldn't remember who it was), and everybody would expect America to act like an idiot and come up with some stupid retort. Then the meeting would go to Hell from there.

Honestly, acting so idiotic was exhausting, but America had no choice. He had to distract them from his biggest secret, which was only known by five other living nations besides himself. And the only way to distract them when he was on the center of the world stage was to act as stupid and clueless as possible. Very few people knew that America was actually deadly smart and extremely observant. Most importantly, he never forgot.

Luckily, just as England was about to open his mouth, somebody's phone went off. Immediately, everybody's attention turned to America. Even the speaker (Sicily?) stopped his presentation on "Global Warming: It's Negative Effect on Vineyards" and was now staring at America. Germany was glaring at him. "What have I said about phone use in meetings? This in the fifth time this month. I wa-"

"Actually Germany-san," Japan interrupted as he pulled out his cell phone, "it's mine." He hit accept and brought the phone to his ear. "H-Hello? Who is- Indiana-kun? Why are you calling me?" He took the phone away from his ear and handed it across the table to America. "It is for you, America-san. Indiana-kun says it is an emergency and he cannot get a hold of your phone because it is turned off."

America collected himself as he took the phone from Japan. He was planning a thousand ways to kill Indiana. Of all the times to call. "This better be good Indiana or so help me God-"

"It's an actual emergency, Dad. I swear!" Indiana wailed.

"Don't yell!" America scolded. "I'm right here. What is this 'emergency?' It better not be you telling me that you think Ohio is on drugs again. I won't bail you out next time she chases you up a tree."

"It's not that!" he cried, sounding somewhat offended. "Though I still honestly think she is. It's- It's New York! He's blaring that god-awful screeching he calls music and claiming it's rock and roll. I think it's actually bad heavy metal or Florida-Georgia Line, I'm not sure. But Kentucky, West Virginia, and Tennessee retaliated and are now blaring a combination of bluegrass, gospel, Elvis, and Johnny Cash. And California went to go get her Justin Bieber CD. Oklahoma's screaming her head off, Nebraska brought pigs into the house again, Wisconsin's badger is attacking Minnesota, Michigan and Ohio are fighting, Alabama is causing general chaos, Oregon's missing. You gotta come home or we're all gonna die!"

America sighed, rubbed his temples, and mentally counted to ten. Finally, he answered. "I go away to a meeting in Canada for one stinking day and World War III breaks out in the house. You're all dead. Spread the word."

Indiana yelped before the line went dead. He handed Japan's phone back and started packing up his briefcase without a word. England spoke up. "Just where the bloody hell do you think you're going."

"Home." America replied through gritted teeth. "Something came up and I'm needed back in Washington."

He left without another word, leaving 195 stunned countries in his wake.

* * *

When America pulled into the driveway of his home, the music war was still going on. Justin Bieber was blaring from one side of the house, with an off-key female voice singing as loud as she could (that would be California). From the other side of the house, bluegrass was drowning out several other genres. Kentucky and Alabama were playing the banjo and Tennessee and New York were playing the guitar. Ohio and West Virginia were outside singing (screaming) "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson at the top of their lungs. And New Jersey, New Mexico, and Arizona had taken pots and pans from the kitchen and were on the roof banging them together, trying to make as much noise.

Oh, but the chaos didn't end there. There were goats, pigs, lambs, and calves running across the yard, being chased by Iowa, the Dakotas, Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado. Michigan and New Hampshire were arguing over how to get the truck running again. Vermont was taping propaganda flyers for his syrup war against Canada all over the yard. Washington, Idaho, and Oregon were having a paint ball war and the house was splattered with bright blue, pink, and green paint. Maine and Missouri were in a fist fight. Mississippi, Florida, Alaska, Hawaii, Utah, Nevada, and Louisiana were spraying each other with the garden hose. Wisconsin was trying to pry her badger, Madison, off of Minnesota and Illinois was trying to rescue Indiana from her cardinal, Springfield. And Arkansas and Kansas were trying to restrain Oklahoma, who had gone into her Fight-or-Flight instinct from all the noise and was screaming at the top her lungs and fighting to get free. All the while, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Virginia, North Carolina, Connecticut, Maryland, and Georgia were running around trying to end the chaos, meanwhile South Carolina, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Texas were sitting in lawn chairs, drinking beer and watching the chaos unfold.

America took a deep breath, rubbed his temples, and counted down to ten, trying to keep his cool. He was on five when Oregon punched Washington, causing the younger state to accidentally fire his paintball gun. It hit America square in the chest, dyeing his white dress shirt and red tie bright, neon blue. Washington stopped mid-punch before his fist came in contact with Oregon's face and stared at his father, his icy blue eyes wide with shock and realization. "Oh shit."

* * *

Time stood still as everything stopped. The yelling, the screaming, the banging, and the music all died down as fifty pairs of eyes gazed dumbfounded at America. It was Pennsylvania who broke the silence. Her long, brunette hair was coming out of its braid and her white, Amish style apron was splattered with mud, paint, and grass stains. "Daddy! You're home early. We weren't expecting you for another five hours."

"Well, when Indiana and tells me everything is out of control, and that one of you is missing, I tend to be concerned." America replied, his voice cool with calm anger. He turned to Washington and Idaho. "I see you two found Oregon. That's one less thing I have to worry about."

"Yeah…" Washington said. "He just went on a bike ride and forgot to tell anyone. Uh, you okay Dad? Your eye's twitching funny."

America clenched his hand into a fist and huffed. "Yes, Washington, I'm I want all of you in the house."

"But Dad!" Nebraska cried. "The animals! They need to be-"

"Now!" America snarled.

Wyoming cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, Dad. You might-"

"Ve~ Germany," the voice of Italy said from behind America, "who are all these people and why is America yelling at them?"

* * *

 **I know. Another "Nations meet States" cliche, but I'm going to try not to make this chaotic like a lot of those stories end up. Obviously the states are my OCs and I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. Bonus points if you can guess the speaker at the beginning of the chapter is (hint: it's my favorite OC). Don't worry about the state's appearances and etc. They'll be formally introduced later.**


	2. Chapter 2

Delaware nervously watched as his father, America, paced back and forth in the kitchen. At the counter, Pennsylvania was at the counter entertaining their two guests, Italy and Germany, by feeding them slices of her famous Dutch Apple Pie and sourdough pretzels. In the dining room, Jim Reeves sang "Precious Memories," indicating that Kansas had turned on Oklahoma's favorite CD to calm her down from the chaos earlier. He could hear Tennessee upstairs playing his guitar and singing "Mr. Mom" by Lonestar.

Delaware studied his father carefully. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Delaware was almost an exact replica of America. At the physical age of seventeen, the First State had golden hair that was just a shade lighter than America's and the exact same sky blue eyes. Just put a pair of glasses on him, and Delaware could pass off as America.

The only major difference is Delaware typically wore a stern expression; whereas America's expression was typically light-hearted and laid back. In fact, America and the other states often claimed that Delaware must have been adopted because he was like Sweden and Germany's kid, if they had a kid, due to his intimidating aura, semi-permanent scowl, and stern, no-nonsense attitude. Delaware knew his family was joking about that, but it still stung a little. He had to be stern because he had to look after the other states when America was away. Being the oldest, he took it upon himself to keep order at the meetings and make sure the other states didn't get hurt or destroy property.

Obviously he had failed. He was extremely ashamed he let the others get out of hand the way they did. But yet, they didn't listen to him when he told them to stop.

"Ve~ Who are you?" Italy asked. "Como ti chiami?"

Italy and Germany had come over to investigate. Delaware figured this must be weird for them, discovering that America had children. It was clear that Prussia, Japan, France, Mexico, and Canada, the only other living nations besides America who knew about the states, had never revealed his father's secret. Germany and Italy had every right to be suspicious. They knew nothing about his siblings and him, so they had no reason to trust them.  
Delaware extended his hand in a formal manner. "Jonathan David Jones, the State of Delaware. I have several nicknames such as the First State, the Diamond State, the Blue Hen State, and the Small Wonder. My state was first to ratify the Constitution on December 7, 1787, making me the oldest state."

Germany took his hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Delaware. I am the Federal Republic of Germany, Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"Ciao Delaware!" Italy said eagerly, taking the state's other hand and shaking it rapidly. His grip wasn't as firm as Germany's and he wasn't as firm. "I'm Italy."

"It is nice to meet you Mr. Germany, Mr. Italy."

"Ve~ You don't have to be so formal. Call me Feli." Italy insisted.

Delaware's faced flushed red. Despite his flaws, America was a good father. And one of the things America had drilled into his head since the late 18th century was to be polite and respectful to people who were older than him. The best way to do that was address his elders, including nations, as "Mr." and "Ms." He even referred to Prussia as "Mr. Prussia," despite the fact that the former nation kept insisting to be called "Gil."

Italy's informal nature threw everything Delaware lived by out the window. Nations were to be addressed by their country name. Introductions were to be made using the full name, both human and official. People were always greeted with a firm, steady handshake.

"Italy!" Germany growled, noticing Delaware's discomfort with the Romance nation. "Don't make Delaware uncomfortable. This is his house, not yours. And what have I told you about greeting someone? You open your eyes and look them in the eyes, shake their hand firmly, and introduce yourself by your full official name, the Italian Republic, first, followed by your full human name, _Feliciano Vargas_."

"Spiacente!" Italy cried. "I forgot! I forgot!"

"Dummkopf." Germany scoffed in a gentler voice with a hint of affection.

"It's okay, Mr. Italy." Delaware said to the Romance nation hesitantly. "It's not that big of a deal. Believe me, I heard that lecture a thousand times from Father when I was younger. He still gives that lecture, just not to me anymore. But I don't mind."

"So America is actually your father then?" Germany asked.

"Yeah… I know it's probably really weird for you. It's probably even weirder knowing that he has fifty. On the bright side, only four of us were actually born. The rest of us just kind of showed up. In fact, I remember waking up near Dover, my state capital, and following my gut to a house that I somehow knew was Father's. He had the shock of his life the next morning when he woke up and there I was."

"That would be an understatement." America said dryly. He was standing in the entrance to the kitchen with his arms folded defensively over his chest. There were dark bags under his eyes, probably from the stress of having to deal with fifty children. Delaware felt a pang of guilt. His father was exhausted, and he shouldn't have to worry about coming home to either find the house destroyed or somebody dead (which was a huge possibility with rivalries like Ohio and Michigan, New York and Massachusetts, Oregon and Washington, and many others). America gave Delaware a weak smile and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry yourself, kid. What happened earlier is not your fault. I know you tried your best to prevent it, but sometimes it's inevitable."

"But Dad…" Delaware hung his head in shame. "I feel like I let you down. I know you're busy and you shouldn't have to worry about what you're going to come home to."

America cracked a smile before chuckling to himself. "I appreciate that, Del, but it's my job to worry about you kids. No matter what you do, I'm always going to worry." He adjusted his glasses and turned to Italy and Germany. "So what are you dudes doing here?"

"Well," Germany hesitated, "we- I mean Italy, thought that-"

"We were worried about you." Italy replied, interrupting Germany. "You seemed stressed when you left."

"I appreciate the gesture." America said warmly. "But I'm fine. Thank you, though."

"Ve~ Prego!" Italy exclaimed.

"Well, since you're here, you guys might as well meet the rest."

* * *

 **I'm going to try to formally introduce one state at a time so it doesn't get too confusing and I will be going in order of statehood. I also decided to keep it limited to two countries so there's not so many characters to pay attention to at once.**

 **Delaware:  
** **Human Name: Jonathan David Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Delaware  
State Nicknames: The First State, The Diamond State, The Blue Hen State, The Small Wonder  
** **Eye Color: Sky Blue (the exact same shade as America's)  
** **Hair Color: Golden Blond (a shade lighter than America's)  
Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: December 7, 1787 (1st)**


	3. Chapter 3

Pennsylvania slammed her fists into the rising dough before folding it over and repeating. Kneading dough was hard work, but it was nothing to the Keystone State. She had taught herself how to bake and sew and clean, which was much harder than kneading dough. Being the first girl in the house, she had to learn homemaking in order to pass it down to her sisters. She didn't have the luxury of having a mother to teach her. Her father of course tried the best he could, but he was a man and it was the 18th century; men were not homemakers back then. Of course America could take care of himself, but he wasn't exactly qualified to care for several children. With being away on business, and even fighting in wars, he needed somebody to look after the house and the children. Of course, Delaware was always in charge when their father left, but Pennsylvania stepped up to the challenge of taking care of everything. And she never minded doing so. She would do anything to make America's life easier.

"You know, you really should have your hair tied back." She glanced up as Delaware entered the kitchen. She rolled her eyes as she brushed a strand of her long, brunette hair out of her face. A few stray strands had fallen out of her messy, yet traditional bun, but it was still pinned back. She returned to her task, with a steely determination in her sky colored eyes. Like Delaware, her eyes were exactly like America's. It was only fitting. They were, after all, his oldest children. "Dad wants to formally introduce you to Mr. Germany and Mr. Italy. You may have fed them, but you and I both know that you didn't tell them who you were."

She huffed. "Well tell them they can come in the kitchen. And tell Tennessee and Alabama to knock that racket off. They don't need to channel their inner David Allan Coe and sing 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name' for the tenth time in a row."

Delaware cracked a rare smile. "Come on now. You mean you don't want to hear about Mama getting run over by a 'damned old train' again? Besides, you know they'll switch to Johnny Cash and play one of his songs on repeat. It'll probably be 'A Boy Named Sue' because they know how much you just adore that song."

Pennsylvania stopped kneading the dough and glared daggers at her brother. Delaware held his hands up in mock surrender as he opened the fridge to get leftovers. He knew better than to anger her when there were weapons in the general vicinity. Back in the 19th century, when she was only the size of a seven year old, she taught herself how to wield a butcher knife and learned how to slaughter animals because their father was fighting in the War of 1812 and they needed to eat. Delaware had witnessed her shoot down bears that out weighed her by 400 pounds, drag it back to the house, and skin it for meat when they were desperate for food. She was fearless when it came to things like that and she had the skills to do it. She wouldn't hesitate to gut her brother like a fish if he pissed her off.

"Alright, you two. You don't need to start." America said, re-entering the kitchen. This time he was followed by two nations Pennsylvania recognized. "Germany, Italy, this is my Pennsylvania. She's the one who fed you."

"Guten Tag, Herr Deutschland. Buongiorno, Signore Italia." she greeted pleasantly, taking one of each of their hands in her gentle, yet calloused hands. "It is a pleasure to meet you formally. My name is Sarah Marybeth Jones, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. I am the second oldest state, having been born on December 12, 1787 after my state ratified the Constitution."

Italy immediately kissed her cheek. "Ve~ You're so pretty!"

"Thank you!" Pennsylvania exclaimed with a giggle as Germany, America, and Delaware glared at Italy.

Germany smiled and gave her left hand a gentle squeeze, obviously trying to be careful not to crush it. She wanted to laugh because she was far from a dainty little doll, but she said nothing and smiled politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Pennsylvania. Now I can see why America hasn't dropped dead from a heart attack. I imagine you feed him well so that he is not living off just greasy hamburgers."

"Well," she said with a mischievous smile, "my sisters and I do our best. Of course, we do take nights off and let Colorado and Wyoming handle dinner."

"What do you mean?" Delaware asked suspiciously as he looked up from the container that he was eating leftovers out of.

"Why, they make their favorite, of course." Pennsylvania told him, her smile becoming more and more wicked by the second. "Rocky Mountain Oysters, which you're currently enjoying. The boys will be so pleased."

Delaware gagged and threw the container into the sink before running out of the kitchen. Pennsylvania turned back to the nations and smirked before returning to kneading the dough. "Well, Delaware's out for the count. I suppose Daddy's going to take you to see Jersey next? Good luck. You're going to need it."

* * *

 **Rocky Mountain Oysters are, to put it in layman's terms, deep fried balls, usually bull or calf, but they can be pig or sheep. They're a delicacy out west, but they are sometimes consumed in the east, like at the Tiro Testicle Festival in Ohio.**

 **Pennsylvania:  
** **Human Name: Sarah Marybeth Jones  
** **Official Name: The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania (Pennsylvania is one of four states to go by "Commonwealth" instead of "State.")  
** **State Nicknames: The Keystone State, The Quaker State  
** **Eye Color: Sky Blue (the exact shade as America's)  
** **Hair Color: Brunette  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: December 12, 1787 (2nd)**


	4. Chapter 4

New Jersey was sulking in the living room, waiting for America to come lecture him about helping New Mexico and Arizona drag the pots and pans from the kitchen and bang them together. New Jersey knew he shouldn't have done it. For one, he was suppose to be the role model. For two, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Virginia were going to kill him for damaging the pots and pans.

"Do something productive with your time besides sulking." Delaware said as he came out of the bathroom looking rather pale. "You could start by getting out whatever gunk you have in your hair."

"I see you discovered the leftover Rocky Mountain Oysters." New Jersey snickered as he ran a hand through his auburn hair. He pulled his hand away to find it sticky with a mixture of neon pink paint, melted sugar, and glue. "Ew. This is going to be a bitch to get out."

"Well, you probably have about thirty seconds to get it out before Mr. Germany and Mr. Italy come out here with Father." his older brother informed him as he got up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go tell Tennessee and Alabama to change songs or Pennsylvania's going to commit murder."

"Might as well check on Ohio and Michigan while you're up there. It's been half an hour since their last fight. Ohio might've shot Michigan again."

Delaware waved lazily as an indication that he'd peek into their rooms to make sure that Michigan was not, in fact, laying on the floor bleeding to death from a gunshot wound as he started upstairs. Just as he was disappearing from sight, America entered the living room from the kitchen, followed by Germany and Italy. He crossed his arms and beckoned New Jersey over. The Garden State cringed, knowing that when America was done introducing their guests to everyone, he'd be called into his father's office. America was a pretty laid back parent, but when New Jersey or one of his siblings broke the rules, they had to face the consequences of their actions, and America wasn't afraid to punish them. New Jersey walked over to the nations with his olive green eyes locked on the carpeting.

"Introduce yourself." his father ordered.

New Jersey looked up at their two guests. "I'm Serafino, but you can call me Sam. I'm the State of New Jersey, the third state to join the Union."

"You seem nice." Italy commented. "Why did Pennsylvania wish us luck and tell us that we were going to need it."

America cleared his throat. "Because New Jersey can be a trouble maker. Earlier, he was on the roof with my two youngest sons, New Mexico and Arizona, banging pots and pans. Speaking of," he turned to New Jersey, "my office, one hour. You know what you did."

"But Dad-"

"No 'buts.' Don't worry, you're not going to be the only one to catch hell." America said somewhat dismissively. New Jersey knew better than to keep arguing. America might be a laid back parent, but his word was final. When he said something was over, it was over. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it and he didn't repeat himself.

"Yes Dad." New Jersey muttered. "I understand. By the way, Colorado and Wyoming are looking for you."

America turned to Germany and Italy. "I'll be right back."

He headed upstairs to find the two western states, leaving New Jersey alone with the two nations. "So, you met Penny and Delaware, right?"

"Yes." Germany said politely. "Pennsylvania is quite the cook."

"Well, she loves to cook." New Jersey said, "That's the only reason I put up with her. She can be a pain in the ass, especially when she's bossing me."

"Fratello bosses me all the time, but I don't have a problem with him." Italy said.

"Well, he's not your sorella. Besides, you didn't grow up with him." the state pointed out. "I've had to put up with Pennsylvania since the day I was born. Even though she's only six days older than me, she always hold the fact that she's older than me over my head and uses it as an excuse to boss me. Like I said, pain in the ass."

"I heard that!" Pennsylvania called from the kitchen. "And maybe if you'd clean and stop causing chaos, I'd leave you alone. But no, you never listen."

America came back downstairs and glared at New Jersey, a warning not to retaliate. "Come on, dudes. We gotta get going if you're going to meet all my states before next week."

* * *

 **Sorry I haven't updated for a week. I had to weigh in my fair animals last Saturday, and then I left for Colorado last Sunday. I just got back yesterday and I didn't have my laptop with me. But now I am ready to write the Colorado chapter after learning about the people and culture of Colorado.**

 **New Jersey:  
** **Human Name: Serafino Edward Jones (Nickname is Sam)  
** **Official Name: The State of New Jersey  
** **State Nickname: The Garden State  
** **Eye Color: Olive Green  
** **Hair Color: Auburn  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: December 18, 1787 (3rd)**


	5. Chapter 5

Georgia shooed Arizona and New Mexico out of the dining room after giving them a scolding of a lifetime, ending by threatening to "whoop their asses with a lilac switch" if they ever pulled the stunt they did earlier again. They knew it was just a threat, but they also knew she had made good on her threats in the past because Alabama told them that the most severe punishments he'd ever received were from Georgia. There were several times that Alabama couldn't sit for a week because Georgia had taken the pot stick or a switch across his bare behind. If she had to, she'd do the same to New Mexico and Arizona.

All the southern states knew that if America didn't punish them, Georgia would. And she was more than willing to punish the others, if need be. Georgia was a firm believer that people, including herself, should suffer the consequences of their actions. If the rules were broken, punishment was handed out. And she didn't believe in "go to your room" or "you're grounded." No sir, she believed a good spanking was the best teacher for many wrong-doings, as long as it wasn't taken too far and only handed out when it was deserved.

Georgia brushed a stray strand of her shoulder length, curly brown hair out of her face and pinned it back with a bobby pin that she had stuck on her belt loop earlier. They had two nations as guests, and it was especially important to look presentable. They probably weren't impressed with that slob New Jersey, so she had to make extra sure she was neat as a pin. She looked in the mirror that was hanging at the back of the dining room and scanned her reflection with her amber eyes, fixing little things until she deemed that she looked presentable.

If she had the time and a warning that they were coming, she would've made some peach cobbler and pecan pie, because it was important to feed your guests. And food was also the best way to impress them. At least Pennsylvania already had some food ready, otherwise Georgia would've gone insane trying to scrounge food for Germany and Italy. It was her philosophy that no guest should go home unfed.

Before she could go check her appearance again, America lead Germany and Italy into the dining room. Georgia put a smile on her face and held out her hand to Germany, who took it gently and shook it. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. I am Mary Eleanor Jones, the State of Georgia, fourth state to join the Union."

"Guten Tag, Georgia." Germany said politely.

"Ve~ Such a pretty girl! Una ragazza molto bella!" Italy exclaimed as he kissed her cheeks. "Ciao! I'm Italy."

Georgia's cheeks flushed red at the compliment as America glowered at Italy. "Dude, we're going to have a major problem if you keep flirting with my daughters."

"Oh Daddy," Georgia scolded playfully, "you worry too much."

"It's my job to worry about you, Peach." he said with a hint of fatherly concern in his voice.

"Speaking of worryin', you don't have to worry about New Mexico and Arizona. I already gave them hell and warned them that they'd be pickin' a switch if they ever pull that stunt again."

America sighed. "I appreciate that Georgia; however it's really not your place to do that. I didn't say anything about you spanking Alabama, Florida, and Mississippi when they were little, but I'd prefer if you'd let me handle the punishments around here."

"Yes Daddy." Georgia said with a pout. She turned to the nations. "Penny fed y'all, right?"

"Ja." Germany replied a little nervously. "It was good."

"Penn'll be glad you liked it. I'm in charge of dinner tonight. Hope y'all like fried chicken 'cause I'm usin' my own personal recipe."

"That sounds delicious!" Italy declared. "Can you make pasta too?"

"No…" Georgia replied awkwardly. "North Carolina's makin' mac and cheese and Colorado's eager to serve y'all some Rocky Mountain Oysters. I think Iowa and Idaho are grillin' ears of corn and potatoes as sides. And for dessert, we're havin' peach and cherry cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream."

"Ve~ How are there oysters in the Rocky Mountains?" Italy asked. "Do they come from lakes and rivers in the mountains?"

Georgia cracked a smile. "Nah, they're a livestock by-product. I think Colorado is usin' beef tonight 'cause he, Wyoming, Montana, and Nebraska just processed and branded a bunch of cattle. They usually make them from cows, but they've tried usin' pig, sheep, and even goat before just because."

"How do you get oysters from cows?" Italy asked, even more confused than before.

"You'll find out. Just try them first. They ain't too bad once you get past the knowledge of what you're eatin'. Tastes just like veal and venison."

"What is-"

"That's enough questions, Italy." Germany scolded. "I'm sure this Colorado will explain it. And we have to at least try it. America and his states are being generous and inviting us to stay for dinner. It is only polite to at least try what they put on the table."

"Y'all better get a move on if you're to meet the others before dinner." Georgia said. "Y'all have forty-six to go."

* * *

 **I tried Rocky Mountain Oysters in Colorado. That was my adventure for the week. They're not too bad. You don't really taste anything except the breading. It wasn't too gross for me because the day before I had participated in a branding and I got to castrate some of the calves. It was like, "I cut them out, so I might as well try them." What's gross is somebody threw a pair of testicles at this one kid because he wasn't participating and then put them around her neck and head, like she was putting on a necklace and earrings. So eating Rocky Mountain Oysters doesn't sound too bad after watching this kid get hit the face with freshly cut calf balls and another person put them near her face. I'm done grossing you out now.**

 **Georgia:  
** **Human Name: Mary Eleanor Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Georgia  
** **State Nicknames: The Peach State, The Empire State of the South  
** **Eye Color: Amber  
** **Hair Color: Brunette  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: January 2, 1788 (4th)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

Connecticut growled as her phone went off again, indicating that somebody had responded again. She, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island had a group message going, despite they were all in the same house. She knew they were just replying to the group message just to annoy her. That was one of her pet-peeves: texting somebody you were in the same building as instead of going over to them and having a face-to-face conversation.

She looked down at her phone and saw the reply was from Rhode Island. "Paris? Really, Mass? I think Barcelona would be better."

The three of them started a tradition in the 1970s of planning a vacation in order to bond. Right now, they were figuring out a location. Connecticut's phone went off again as Massachusetts had replied. "Isn't there a gay beach there? You just want to go to that to check out the hot naked guys and maybe find yourself a boyfriend. Lol."

"MASSACHUSETTS, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" a voice screamed from somewhere in the house. Rhode Island had read Massachusetts's reply and didn't find it as funny as the responder himself did.

"LANGUAGE, RHODE ISLAND! THERE ARE CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE!" Pennsylvania yelled from the kitchen.

"THEN TELL MASSACHUSETTS HE'S NOT FUNNY!" Rhode Island shouted in response. He actually sounded like he was about to cry. "HE'S BEING AN INSENSITIVE FUCKING ASSWIPE!"

America stuck his head in Connecticut's room. "Why is Rhode Island yelling?"

"We're trying to plan our trip and Rhodey suggested Barcelona. Mass said he only wanted to go there because of the gay beach that he thinks is there. Now Rhodey's pissed at Massy." she replied.

"I'll talk with Mass." America said as he rolled his eyes. He beckoned to someone to come into Connecticut's room. She knew immediately that it was her turn to meet Germany and Italy. She jumped up off her bed as they entered and gave them a polite little wave. "Hello. Sorry about Rhode Island's swearing. He normally isn't as loud. I'm the State of Connecticut, Constance M. Jones."

"It's nice to meet you, Connecticut." Germany said. She could tell the nation was nervous, and she didn't blame him. The states were insane as is, and he had no reason to trust that he and Italy were safe. He probably also knew that any business involving the states would be messy and could potentially spark World War III. After all, some nations wouldn't hesitate to hurt them in order to get to America. And if that happened, well let's just say that America is very protective of his children.

"You don't have to be so nervous, Mr. Germany. Nobody here's going to hurt you." she assured him a professional manner, meeting his eyes with her own light blue orbs. "Dad will make sure of that. You know, you seem very different from Mr. Prussia. Are you sure you two are brothers?"

"Yes, I'm sure that we're-" he started before cutting himself off. "Wait. How do you know my brother?"

She laughed. "I remember meeting him when I was very little. Dad wrote him and begged him to come and watch us while he went out west on business. That was when we weren't able to take care of ourselves. I think he took a liking to Massachusetts, but I don't know how though. Massachusetts is an insufferable asshole. You'll be meeting him next, I assume."

America nodded in confirmation with a grim look on his face. "At least Iggy's not here. That would be a disaster."

Germany looked alarmed as Connecticut laughed. "Yeah, that would be awful. Just a fair warning to you two, Massachusetts is a lot like England, only crazier. And don't compare him to England or even mention England because then he's liable to dump hot tea on your head, which will create paperwork for me because I'm Massy's lawyer. I really don't want to go against you in a lawsuit."

"Ve~ Why would he do that?" Italy asked in alarm.

"Because he's a rebellious asshole living in his glory days that he himself wasn't alive for. Massachusetts still holds a grudge for the Revolutionary War, and none of us states were even alive until after the Articles of Confederation failed." she replied as she twirled a strand of her golden hair idly. "But you should be fine. It was nice meeting you."

She got up and left her room to find Rhode Island, leaving the two countries and her father behind. America chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's go see what Massachusetts is up to, besides angering Rhode Island."

* * *

 **Connecticut:  
** **Human Name: Constance Maureen Jones (Connie)  
** **Official Name: The State of Connecticut  
** **State Nicknames: The Constitution State, The Nutmeg State, The Provisions State, The Land of Steady Habits  
** **Eye Color: Light Blue  
** **Hair Color: Golden Blonde  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: January 9, 1788 (5th)**


	7. Chapter 7

Massachusetts was sprawled out on his bed, texting his cousin, Quebec, about how to best get under New York's skin. The two of them were planning something big that would put the other state in his place. His emerald eyes lit up seeing what the Canadian was suggesting. "Perfect! The fucking bastard will never see it coming. Quebec, you are a genius."

"And how exactly is Quebec a genius?" asked a voice from the doorway. Massachusetts looked up and saw his father, America, standing there with the two visiting countries, Italy and Germany. The state quickly hid his phone and brushed his curly, black bangs away from his eyes.

"No reason." he lied, trying to keep his cool. The last thing he wanted was his dad to find out about his plans. Though he was slightly buzzed from the drinks he had earlier, he wasn't so stupidly shitfaced enough to tell America what he and his cousin were planning.

America raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about the fact that Massachusetts just blatantly lied to him. Instead he changed the subject, knowing he'd hear what his son and niece were up to later. "I heard what you did to Rhode Island. I'd like you to apologize to him."

"But Dad, Rhodey's just being a pussy about it. You know he'll get over it." Massachusetts protested, even though he knew perfectly well that it was an order, not a request. America glared at him. "Yes, Father."

"That's what I thought." America replied. "Now, we have guests, so I expect whatever you and Quebec are up to will wait until they leave."

Massachusetts nodded in confirmation before extending his hand to Germany and Italy. "Name's James Jones, Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Don't call me Jimmy or any of the 'original' names that New York calls me and we'll get along just fine."

"From what I heard about your history, I would think you'd be more rebellious. Why do you listen to America?" Germany asked curiously.

"'Cause he's my dad." Massachusetts replied flatly. "Besides, I'm not as liberal as I used to be, and I've settled down a bit."

"Who the hell do you think you're kidding, Masshole?" a voice yelled from down the hall. "All you ever talk about is your glory days that you weren't even alive for."

The sixth state's face turned redder than a tomato. "Shut up, New York! Or else you'll be having that damn big mouth of yours wired shut."

"Dad! Massachusetts is threatening me again!" the voice, now identified as New York, yelled.

"You fu-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Massachusetts." America said tensely. "And don't act like you're so innocent, New York."

"You sure this is a good idea, Father?" Massachusetts asked as he changed the subject. "I mean, if you're introducing by statehood, they're going to lose their minds by the end. After all, I'm only number six out of fifty, and wait until they meet Ohio and Michigan, or Washington and Oregon, or California and Texas, or Mississippi and Alabama. They're all psycho by themselves, but when they're together, God help the poor soul that's in the same room as them."

"Ve~ surely that aren't that bad. You states are too cute to be crazy like Russia." Italy said hopefully, causing Massachusetts to burst out laughing.

"You guys think world meetings are bad, but you've never been to a state meeting." Massachusetts replied through his laughter. A devilish smile appeared on his face. "You both better start praying to God that you still have your sanity by the time you're done."

* * *

 **Sorry this is really late, but I got really busy. I'll have the next chapter up asap. Maryland is up next.**

 **Massachusetts:  
** **Human Name: James Arthur Jones  
Official Name: The Commonwealth of Massachusetts  
** **State Nicknames: The Bay State, Colony State, Old Colony, The Spirit of America  
** **Eye Color: Emerald Green (like England's)  
** **Hair Color: Black  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: February 6, 1788 (6th)**


	8. Chapter 8

America lead Germany, who was a little freaked out, and Italy, who was scared to death, out of Massachusetts's room. Shortly after he had talked about how his siblings were crazy, Massachusetts declared he was going down to the basement to practice black magic, and nobody was to bother him until dinner was ready. Needless to say, Germany and Italy were unnerved; whereas America saw it as just another ordinary day.

"How do you deal with all this insanity?" Germany asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh, well, you just kind of get used to it after a while. Besides, there's a lot of diversity in this house, and with all that diversity you're naturally going to get some chaos." America replied. He lowered his voice. "Besides, not all of my kids are crazy. The next one you'll meet is probably one of the more well behaved one, not that any of my kids are bad." He turned around and said, "Hey Maryland! Come back here!"

A girl long, waist length black hair turned around and faced them, her ocean colored eyes meeting America's. Neither Germany nor Italy had noticed her walking by. The girl broke out in a smile and ran towards her father before enveloping him into a hug. "Father! It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Mary. There's some people I'd like you to meet."

Italy studied the girl in confusion before addressing America. "I thought Georgia's name was Mary."

"Oh it is, but most of the time we call her Georgie." Maryland replied. "Mary is my nickname. Michelle Jones, the State of Maryland. It is a pleasure to meet you both." She turned to her father. "Are you introducing them to us all?"

"That's the plan, provided the others aren't fighting."

She let out a snort. "Well then, you might as well tell Mr. Germany and Mr. Italy to go home 'cause you know somebody's going to be fighting due to either football season or the Great Fruit War. Unless you want me to tell the others to go to their rooms and not leave until you tell them they can leave? Then again, Iowa, Nebraska, and Colorado are all out in the yard trying to round up farm animals. And I think they want to go out and check their crops when they're done."

"Oh, I know they will." America replied. He glanced over at the other two nations. "Many of my states have a passion for agriculture. I have to practically drag them inside so they eat and sleep; otherwise they would live in the barn."

"Agriculture is a very important thing." Germany said hesitantly, not really wanting to say anything out of fear of offending nearby states. He still didn't have a good read on most of them. "It is very nice to see young people taking an interest in an older industry with this technological age."

"Oh, some of my brothers and sisters would argue otherwise." Maryland said devilishly. "There are many new technologies in agriculture, so therefore my siblings who are interested in agriculture are well versed in modern technology. And you don't have to be so nervous, Mr. Germany. Many of us love to debate topics, and we enjoy hearing different opinions. Unless you're saying something offensive, none of us will get offended if you say something we don't agree with. Relax a little."

"That's my Maryland. Always knows how to make people feel comfortable." America said with a chuckle. "Tell everyone to get into their meeting attire for dinner."

"Yes Father. Have fun, Mr. Germany, Mr. Italy. I'll see y'all later." she told them before turning around and dashing off.

* * *

 **Maryland:  
** **Human Name: Michelle Anne Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Maryland  
** **State Nicknames: Old Line State, Free State, Monumental State, Cockade State, Terrapin State  
** **Eye Color: Ocean Blue  
** **Hair Color: Black  
Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: April 28, 1788 (7th)**


	9. Chapter 9

South Carolina sat outside on the porch smoking a cigarette. He was hoping he could get it out of the way before his father brought their guests around. His father didn't particularly like his smoking habit. South Carolina always argued that he was a state, so it wasn't like he was going to die or anything. So America let it slip, deciding that it wasn't worth starting a huge argument about, as long as he didn't catch South Carolina in the act.

"You're not supposed to smoke near the house." Colorado said, staring at his older brother from behind his sunglasses.

"Yeah, and you're not supposed to be driving the tractor by yourself like ya were earlier." South Carolina drawaled.

Though he couldn't see Colorado's eyes, he could feel them glaring at him. The younger state huffed before going into the house. As soon as the younger state was out of sight, South Carolina sighed before snubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of his boot.

"You know how I feel about that." America said through the screen door before opening it and coming outside, followed by Germany and Italy.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard it before." the state replied lazily. He nodded to Germany and Italy. "How are y'all doing? I'm Charles Jones, the State of South Carolina. Y'all can call me Charlie."

"It's nice to meet you S- Charlie." Germany replied, catching himself before he said South Carolina's state name. He had specifically asked to be called by a nickname, so Germany figured he'd use it.

"Ditto." South Carolina said as he kicked his boots up on the porch railing and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "I know Dad doesn't anymore, but do y'all wanna smoke?"

"Nein, and Italy won't either."

The state shrugged his shoulders as he put it away. "Suit yourselves."

"Charlie!" a small voice called from inside the house. "Arizona's picking on me again!"

"Tattle tale!" another voice cried. "You're a big baby, Alaska."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"I. Am. Not."

"Why don't you go cry to Papa about it, you bawl baby."

America huffed, opened the screen door, and went inside. South Carolina snorted as his father disappeared inside the house.

"Ve~ what's so funny?" Italy asked.

"Alaska must not've know Dad was here; otherwise she wouldn't have said anything. Alaska doesn't like getting 'Zona into trouble, despite the fact he picks on her all the time. So, I told her to come to me. I used to have to deal with 'Bama all the time when Dad was away, so I'm used to it."

America came back outside and rolled his eyes before turning to South Carolina. "Where's New Hampshire?"

"Over by the truck. Well, nice meeting y'all, but I have to go get changed for dinner, which has now officially been pushed back three hours, according to Georgie. Says all this food they gotta make won't be done in a hour."

* * *

 **South Carolina:  
** **Human Name: Charles Duncan Jones (Nickname is Charlie)  
** **Official Name: The State of South Carolina  
** **Nickname: Palmetto State  
** **Eye Color: Sea Green  
** **Hair Color: Brown  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: May 23, 1788 (8th)**


	10. Chapter 10

New Hampshire wiped her dirty hands on her grease rag before taking a sip of her water. She was hard at work trying to get the truck working again. She and Michigan had been taking turns attempting to get it to run, and it was her turn to try. Despite the fact that it was the rustiest piece of machinery she had ever seen and it was nearly sixty years old, she firmly believed there was still hope for it, even though everyone told her to give up. In her mind, if she couldn't get this truck running, then she had no hope of ever reaching her goal of becoming a mechanic.

"America, you have really pretty daughters." a voice said from right next to her.

Startled, she looked up and found her sapphire eyes staring into Italy's honey ones. "Oh my gosh! Father, why didn't you warn me you were coming? I would've gotten the oil out of my hair."

"It's fine." America assured her. "Though, you might want to take a shower before dinner."

"Yes, Father." she replied before addressing Italy and Germany. "It's nice to meet you both. I apologize for my appearance; I would've cleaned up before you came if I would've known you were coming. I'm Jane, the State of New Hampshire."

"So you're a mechanic?" Germany asked curiously.

New Hampshire beamed with pride. "Why, yes I am. I absolutely love working with machinery. I could do it all day every day."

"Really? You know I have worked one engines in the past."

"Oh yes! I've taken German engines apart, and I must say you are quite good at making them. Right now, I'm working on trying to get this clunker running again. Nebraska mentioned that he needed a truck to haul feed and that he's tired of relying on Iowa."

"Hm… It looks fairly complicated." Germany mused. "No doubt that you can fix it though. But if you want, I could help you with it sometime."

"Could you?" New Hampshire asked excitedly before remembering that her father might not want Germany hanging around her and Michigan. "I mean, if Father is okay with it, Michigan and I would greatly appreciate your help."

"Why not." America said. "Germany's cool, I trust him."

"Really?" the state asked as she clasped her hands together and started jumping up and down excitedly. America nodded in confirmation, causing New Hampshire to let out squeal of joy and throw her arms around him. "Thank you so much!"

America kissed her temple. "Your welcome. Now go get cleaned up for dinner. If California's in the bathroom, tell her I said to get out; she can finish her makeup later."

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Germany. And you too, Mr. Italy. I'll see you all at dinner."

* * *

 **I know these chapters have been short, but there's not a whole lot to write about without dragging it out too much. The next couple chapters with be a lot longer, though.**

 **New Hampshire:  
** **Human Name: Jane Penelope Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of New Hampshire  
** **State Nicknames: Granite State, White Mountain State  
** **Eye Color: Sapphire Blue  
** **Hair Color: Ash Blonde  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: June 21, 1788 (9th)**


	11. Chapter 11

"Oh please Georgie, Jersey and Mass aren't the worst of the bunch. They haven't met West." Virginia scoffed, flipping her red hair back before returning to her sewing. She had gone to the kitchen for her weekly venting session with Georgia. Right now she was busy venting about West Virginia, her younger brother.

"West isn't that bad. Sure he's a little wryly, and yeah he may have a knack for following Kentucky, Tennessee, and Ohio and getting in trouble, but he sure ain't the worst." Georgia replied cut peaches for her peach cobbler. "Your problem with West is that you don't understand him."

Virginia's phone dinged. "Speak of the devil."

She saw her brother's text flash onto her screen. _"Wanna come play some football with Ohio, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, and I? We need another person, and I don't want to ask Michigan. Ohio and Michigan playing football? You know how that'll end."_

"Football?" Georgia read as she peered over Virginia's shoulder. "That sounds like fun. If you don't want to and you're willin' to fry the chicken, tell him that I'll play with them."

"Don't you have peach cobbler to make? Besides, I'll never hear the end of it from Kentucky that you let me fry the chicken. I'll just tell him to go ask Mississippi, Louisiana, or Missouri."

Georgia scoffed. "I thought West wanted to avoid bloodshed. Might as well tell him to go ask Indy instead. Indy ain't that big into football, but at least we won't be cleaning blood out of clothes tomorrow."

"What about cleaning blood out of clothes?" America asked as he entered the kitchen, followed by Germany and Italy, who had caught up with New Jersey and was having a passionate conversation in Italian with the state.

"Apparently a bunch of them are playing football, and West invited Ginny." Georgia replied. She picked up a wooden spoon and brought it down on New Jersey's hand, which was reaching for one of her peaches. "Out of my kitchen! Now!"

"Make me Georgia. Oh wait, you can't 'cause I'm older than you." New Jersey replied haughtily.

Fire flashed in Georgia's amber eyes before she picked up a butcher knife and chased New Jersey from the kitchen. Virginia sighed and went over to the peaches her sister was cutting and picked up where the older state left off. "Anyway, West said he didn't want to invite Michigan, because Ohio's playing and you know how that will end."

America shuddered. "Yeah, I remember every November when we have our yearly reenactment of the Toledo War. Anyway, I assume you know why I'm here."

"Yes." Virginia replied before turning around to face their guests, working on pulling her long red hair into a ponytail. "It's a pleasure to meet y'all. I've heard stories from Daddy, so of course I know who's who. I'm Elizabeth Jones, the Commonwealth of Virginia, named after the virgin queen, Queen Elizabeth I. Y'all can call me Ginny or Elizabeth if you want; just don't call me Liz or Lizzy. Like Massy, I absolutely despise it when people shorten my human name."

"Ve~ dinner smells good." Italy remarked.

"Yes, but I think that's the dessert, or at least one of them. Penny made another pie. Blackberry, I think. Penn always had a talent for pie making. Me, I don't have the patience for it." she replied. "Georgia's supposed to fry chicken, and Colorado and Wyoming are going to make Rocky Mountain Oysters. And I think Louisiana's gonna do some gumbo and Ohio made some buckeyes earlier, which are peanut butter balls covered in chocolate and not the actual poisonous nut. We got a lot of mouths to feed around here, so we make a lot of food. On the plus side, we don't usually throw out food here. If somebody doesn't like it, well somebody else will eat it."

"And by somebody else, you mean Hero, Denver, Montpelier, Springfield, or Madison." America said with a devilish grin, causing Virginia to glare. "What? You don't think I don't know whose plate Oklahoma's beets or Hawaii's venison ends up on? Or the real reason Denver has his own place mat at the table?"

"Wait, who are those people?" Germany asked.

"Well Hero's Dad's cat." Virginia replied. "Some of the states have a pet that represents their capital. Let's see, Vermont has a moose named Montpelier, Wisconsin has a badger named Madison that likes to attack Minnesota, Montana has a heifer named Helena, Illinois has a cardinal named Springfield who attacks people who say her capital is Chicago, and Colorado has a dog named Denver, though if it were up to him it would be a bighorn sheep. He didn't exactly have a choice in that matter. There are some others, but I can't remember them all off the top of my head." She glanced at her watch. "Daddy, if y'all are going to be done before dinner, you better get a move on. Next is New York right. Well, that'll be an adventure. I think he's in the basement playing video games, as if he has nothing more productive to do."

* * *

 **I apologize ahead of time because I'm going to bring up Ohio a lot before I actually get to the Ohio chapter. I live in the State of Ohio, so it's easier for me to use Ohio when the states are explaining something because it's safe territory. So again, I apologize ahead of time for bringing it up so much.**

 **I'm also trying to tone down the accents. I might throw in "y'all," "yinz," and "youse" (which are various regional slang words for "you all" for those who don't know; "y'all" used in the South and some parts of the Midwest, and is the most recognizable; "yinz" is used mainly in Pennsylvania; "youse" is used in various parts of the United States) and maybe leave out the "g" in "-ing" words because a lot of Americans talk so fast that we don't say the "g."**

 **Also, I am aware of the recent presidential election. I know the situation and the topic is very charged. I do not, and I repeat, do not want any fighting in the reviews. Also, if you think whatever you're going to say will majorly offend someone (racially, religiously, sexually, etc.), don't say it. And I will not tolerate anyone belittling some else for their political views or beliefs. I don't care who you wanted in office, it is NEVER, under any circumstances, right to belittle someone for their political beliefs. It is everyone's right as an American citizen and a human being to have their own opinion, and they have every right to have an opinion that may or may not agree with everyone else's. If I see any bullying, belittling, or offensive comments against anyone in the reviews, I will delete the review and block the writer faster than you can say "#Harambe2020."**

 **I'm not really concerned about you guys because I know you are all fantastic, open-minded people, but I have to cover my bases. I've heard of it, and seen it, happening on various sites, and I don't want it to happen here. That being said, I will not cover any current political topics because my personal political beliefs should not be part of this story. The only things I'm going to mention about politics is 1) the fact that every President since 1960 has won the State of Ohio (because I have to include that little fact about my home state), 2) Texas normally votes Republican, and 3) California normally votes Democratic. That's it. No candidates, no ballot issues.**

 **Thank you guys for your understanding on this in advance, and sorry for the long author's note. I just had to let you guys know about this. Thank you guys for all your reviews, follows, and favorites. It means the world to me, and I really appreciate them.**

 **Virginia:  
** **Human Name: Elizabeth Francine Jones  
** **Official Name: The Commonwealth of Virginia  
** **State Nicknames: Old Dominion, Mother of Presidents  
** **Eye Color: Brown  
** **Hair Color: Red  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: June 25, 1788 (10th)**


	12. Chapter 12

"Come on!" New York growled as he pushed a strand of his curly black hair out of his eyes before refocusing on his controller. "Bastard! I thought you were on my side."

Suddenly, his phone started blaring "All My Exes Live In Texas." Sighing he paused the game and answered. "What do you want Tex?"

"Enjoying yourself, Big Brother?" Texas gloated. "I do believe I am kicking your ass."

New York's blue eyes turned icy as he glared at the score in the bottom of the screen to that Texas, was in fact, creaming him. "I guess everything is bigger in Texas. Kind of hard not to be true considering that their personification has an ego the size of, well, Texas."

The younger state snorted on the other end of the line. "That's the best insult you can come up with, Yankee? Pathetic. You're getting weak, old man. Keep coming up with insults like that and you won't even stand a chance against California, and you know how 'creative' her insults are."

He hung up before New York could come up with a good retort, probably bringing up the Southern state's affinity for handguns and his love heart attack inducing portions of anything barbequed. New York had half a mind to call him back and give his younger brother a piece of his mind, but the basement door swung open, allowing light to flood into the room.

"What the… Boys! I've told you not to make a mess of this place." his father said from the top of the basement steps. "It's normally not like this, but I think my boys were down here having their weekly video game war against Mattie's boys and Japan last night."

"Japan knows about the states?" a gruff voice that New York recognized as Germany's asked.

"Oh yeah dude. He's known about them since the 1850's when he first opened his borders. I took Delaware and California, who was my youngest at the time, along with me." America replied.

"Who else knows about them?" a higher pitch voice that New York knew to be Italy's asked.

"Well, France and Prussia were the first to know because they were kind of in my house when I found Delaware. Then Mattie, that would be Canada to you, accidently found out in the 1790's. Mexico found out around the time I started hanging around the Republic of Texas, who was my Texas's mother. And then Japan when I took Delaware and Cali along with me. Then there is the Kingdom of Hawaii, who is my youngest's mother, and you two dudes. So eight currently living nations."

"Man Dad, you can't keep a secret worth crap." New York said, announcing his presence to his father and their two guests. "It's amazing that of the how many nations you've become acquainted with over the years that only eight of them know about us. Well, really the total is eleven if you count Alta California, the Republic of Texas, and the Vermont Republic. Too bad Texas is dead; she was my favorite stepmother out of the four of them."

"Who are you?" Germany asked as the three nations came into New York's line of sight.

"Justin Jones, the State of New York. Pleasure to finally meet you. It's been literally over 100 years since I've formally met a nation. The last one was the Kingdom of Hawaii, and I haven't seen her in fifty years. I know she's still alive though because she always sends my sister, the State of Hawaii, a birthday card and a Christmas card, and all Hawaii talks about when she goes home is that she gets to see her mom. Oh, and the Kingdom and Dad get into it every time she calls here, so it's kind of hard not to notice. They don't exactly see eye-to-eye. Then again, my dad doesn't have much luck with women. They either hate him or they're psycho. Or they die."

"Thanks New York." America said sarcastically. "You realize you're my kid right? So you've probably inherited my 'bad luck' with women."

New York laughed. "Probably. At least I have a better chance than Massachusetts though because I'm better looking."

"I heard that, asshole!" Massachusetts yelled from the next room over. The basement was divided into two parts, and Massachusetts was in the other part practicing dark magic, or so he claimed. "Now be quiet! This takes focus, and I will not die at the hands of demons again because you can't keep that damn big mouth of yours shut, New York."

"Whatever you say, Masshole." New York replied.

"You wanna go, Yankee trash?"

"I'd like to see you take me."

"That's enough you two." America said lazily. "You by any chance don't know where North Carolina is?"

"Nope." New York replied as he kicked his boots up on the table. "She might've joined the football game outside. I got a text earlier from Ohio asking if I wanted to join. I think that was before Michigan joined."

"That's just fantastic." America groaned as rubbed his temples in preparation of the incoming headache that usually resulted from those two fighting. "If you hear anything, call me first before Indiana calls 9-1-1. And you need to be in meeting attire for dinner. That goes for you too, Massachusetts."

* * *

 **So I do have all of next week off of school, but I probably won't be updating because it have three college visits, and two of those are on the other side of the state. So if I don't update before, everyone have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. And be careful on Black Friday, if you go shopping. I know that gets a little chaotic. Also, I wouldn't be a good Ohioan if I didn't say "Go Bucks!" for next week's game (even though I'm a Penn State fan in Ohio where Brutus is practically God).**

 **New York:  
** **Human Name: Justin Nathan Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of New York  
** **State Nicknames: The Empire State  
** **Eye Color: Blue  
** **Hair Color: Black  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: July 26, 1788 (11th)**


	13. Chapter 13

North Carolina sat in the living room painting her toenails a bright, bold shade of red when her phone dinged and her screen lit up, telling her that New York was sending her a text message. "Dad's looking for you."

The Southern State let out an exasperated sigh, causing her honey colored bangs to flutter from the air movement. "Since when did it become the norm to text? What's wrong with a good old face-to-face conversation. Or a phone call?"

She quickly texted him back, telling him that she was in the living room. She figured that it was going to be her turn sooner or later. Suddenly, there was a crash from upstairs, followed by California screaming her head off at Florida. Georgia's voice reverberated through the house. "Y'all better knock it off or else I'll kick your asses! And pick up what you knocked over!"

"What's all this screaming about?" America asked as he came up from the basement, followed by their two guests.

North Carolina waved her hand dismissively. "Florida probably broke one of California's foundation bottles again. You know how those two get into it." She regarded Germany and Italy. "Pleasure to meet y'all. I'm Caroline Jones, the State of North Carolina. And no, South and I are not twins, so don't ask. It's complicated."

"I always thought Carolina was one state." Germany commented. "Then again, before now my knowledge of you states wasn't the greatest."

"Yes and no. Carolina at one time was one colony, but that doesn't matter when it comes to states because none of us existed before the Constitution. I mean, there were personifications of the original colonies that existed under the Articles of Confederation, but the Articles gave them so much power that when the Constitution took state power away, it made them weak and they died, leaving Daddy the only one to represent the states. But even back when there was only thirteen of us, we were still very diverse. We don't know how we exist, but we know it has something to do with Dad. Best theory we have, that Nevada came up with, is that Dad was trying to deflect the stress of having such a diverse nation that he created us on the day we became states under the Constitution to help alleviate that stress. I'm sure you've seen how different we are and how we interact with each other. Can you imagine one personification dealing with all of that constantly? Y'all think Dad's crazy as is, but he could've been even crazier. Scary thought, huh? But that's how South and I aren't twins. Now the Dakotas are another story."

"I don't even know which one's older." America commented. "But yeah, having to represent all of you at once internationally and domestically would be Hell on Earth. Anyway Caroline, I have to go call Canada real quick. Can you look after these two until I get back?"

"Sure, Dad." she replied before he walked off. "Y'all having fun, or have my older siblings drove you nuts yet?"

"Nein, you states are very respectful. I will commend America on that." Germany replied.

Caroline chuckled. "Y'all can have a seat, if you want. Do you want anything to drink while we're waiting for my dad to get back?"

Both nations shook their heads in reply and sat down on the couch nearby. Suddenly, there was a crash from upstairs, followed by somebody blaring "If Heaven Ain't A Lot Like Dixie" by Hank Williams Jr., followed by New York's, who despised that song as it compared his city to Hell, yelling from the basement at the one playing it. Then there was the sound of someone stomping like a herd of elephants down the stairs. On top of that, the front door slammed open, and they could hear Michigan and Ohio's voices echoing throughout the house. Washington and Oregon soon joined in, with Washington taking Michigan's side in the argument and Oregon taking Ohio's.

"Shit's about to hit the fan." North Carolina tisked as she shook her head.

"What do you mean?" Italy asked in confusion.

She looked up at him. "Ohio and Michigan have been fighting since the day Michigan was born, literally. Ohio took one look at him and told Dad to take him back. She didn't want him to be a state because his people tried to take her land, and she threw enough of a fit that his statehood was pushed back; however he still became a state anyway. They've been bitter rivals ever since. Enter Washington and Oregon, and they're just as bitter of rivals. When Washington was born, Oregon hated him. Ohio felt sympathetic and took him under her wing, causing Michigan to retaliate and take Washington's side in everything. Now when Ohio and Michigan fight and Washington and Oregon are around, they fight too."

"Wait, why does Oregon hate Washington?" Germany asked.

North Carolina shrugged. "Some land dispute. It's always some land dispute. I forget who took what with them, but they've been fighting ever since. Of course, they're not as bad as some others. We fight for the same reasons you countries fight. 'So and so took my land, somebody from my state was killed in her state and she's not doing anything about it, he's making it hard for me to trade this, it's my jurisdiction, that law they passed is hurting me, and so on and so forth.' We just don't actually go to war over those conflicts, at least not anymore. We leave them to the politicians to try to sort it out."

"I'm surprised there aren't actually wars though." Germany commented. "You states behave a lot like nations, and you've probably seen how nations interact with each other."

"Well, we're family, which means we have to put up with each other for the rest of eternity. We can't actually hate each other or do something unforgivable against each other; whereas you nations can because you can cut off ties with each other or go to war. Besides, when push comes to shove, we always have each others' backs. In fact, Michigan is the most protective of Ohio, despite the fact they fight like cats and dogs. If anybody hurt her, they'd answer to Michigan first. And let's just say that they'd wish it were Dad instead, and you know how he is when he's angry. And you think Russia is scarey? You haven't seen anything until you've seen Texas angry. Anyone tries to even mess with Oklahoma, Louisiana, or even California, he'll make them wish they were never born.

"Yes, we fight a lot, and we say and do things that we aren't proud of, but we're just one big, dysfunctional family. If we went to war over every petty, little argument, we wouldn't be able to even function, let alone get anything done. We have to have the capacity to forgive each other and act like a family and protect each other, or else our country falls to pieces."

Germany blinked in disbelief. He from his first impression of seeing the chaos of earlier to his previous encounters with America, he expected the states to be rowdy, disrespectful, and stupid. But so far, his first impression of them had been proven wrong. He couldn't believe that America of all people to raise children like his states, but perhaps he was a different person around them than when he was around nations. He made mental note to ask him later.

America entered the room again, rubbing his temples. "Can't they go one day without fighting?"

"At least it's not Thanksgiving Week." North Carolina replied before glancing at Germany and Italy's confused faces. "Ohio State versus Michigan football game, American football, I mean. It's always the last Saturday in November. You want to talk about Hell on Earth, then talk about that game."

"True, true." America said as he winced. "Any idea where Rhode Island is?"

"His room, probably." North Carolina replied absentmindedly as she got up to go to her own room. "It was a pleasure talking to you both. I'll see y'all at dinner."

* * *

 **Sorry I haven't updated in forever, but I've been busy with school work and applying to colleges. Speaking of applying to colleges, I got accepted to main campus at Penn State! I'm super excited because Penn State has been my dream school since I was little. I can remember my dad (who went to Ohio State) asking if I was going to be a Buckeye, and I told him no because I was going to be a Nittany Lion. And the nice thing about getting accepted to PSU, I got admitted directly into the College of Nursing. With Ohio State (which I didn't apply to anyway), I wasn't guaranteed to get into my major.**

 **That's one thing you need to be aware of if you're thinking about applying to college at all. Some universities don't guarantee that you'll get into your major. Ohio State's one that notorious for that. Yes, it's a big school and a good school, but what's the point of going there if they can't guarantee you your major?**

 **Anyway, if I don't update before, everyone have a safe and happy holiday season.**

 **North Carolina:  
** **Human Name: Caroline Avery Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of North Carolina  
** **State Nicknames: The Tar Heel State, Old North State, Turpentine State, First in Flight  
** **Eye Color: Brown  
** **Hair Color: Honey Blonde  
** **Human Age: 17  
Birthday: November 21, 1789 (12th)**


	14. Chapter 14

America lead Germany and Italy back upstairs to the states' rooms. The two nations didn't take notice earlier, but they noticed each of the doors had a flag hanging in front of it, and a handmade sign with the name of the room's occupant on it. Despite the fact the house was occupied by fifty teenagers, America, an alien, and several animals, the hallway was spotless. The wood floor was covered by a long runner, and the visible parts of it were so shiny that Germany and Italy could see their reflections.

Some of the doors were closed and some were wide open. Some had music blaring from the room. Some had signs telling a specific state to stay out. Some had notes explaining where the occupant was. Yet no matter what, it was obvious each room showed the personality of the state that resided in it, even if they couldn't see inside it.

"Okay…" America said aloud. "Let's see if we can find Rhode Island's room. I think his is next to Pennsylvania's. After I added on the last addition to the house, they decided to alphabetize themselves instead of going by order of statehood. Of course I hear about it all the time from Wyoming, who wanted to be next to Colorado instead of Wisconsin. Ah, here it is."

He stopped in front of a door that had white flag with a gold anchor and golden stars draped over it. The paper with neat, cursive handwriting said "Rhode Island's Room. Stay Out Massachusetts, or Else." America rapped loudly on the door.

The door opened, revealing a teenage boy with light brown hair and light blue eyes staring up at them. Perhaps the most obvious feature to Italy and Germany was the fact that Rhode Island was a good foot shorter than them. "Can I help you?"

Germany hesitated, caught off guard by the fact that the state caught him gawking at the height difference. But Italy, never missing a beat for once in his life, spoke up. "Ve~ Ciao. I'm Italy and this is Germany. Are you Rhode Island?"

"The one and only." he replied, flashing them a smile similar to America's, but not as intense. "Ronald Luis Jones, the State of Rhode Island. Call me Rhodey. And yes, I am actually a state, despite what that asshole Massachusetts may have said."

"Er… Massachusetts didn't really talk about you." Germany replied awkwardly.

Rhode Island narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That is surprising. Normally he makes fun of me for my size, but Wyoming has the smallest population, and his state is pretty big. In fact, I don't believe it for a minute that my asshole brother passed up the opportunity to embarrass me in front of strangers. It wouldn't be the first time he's done it."

"I think he was busy planning something with someone called Quebec." Italy said.

"Quebec? As in my cousin Quebec? The one that rebels against Uncle Mattie? That Quebec?" he asked, glancing at America. "What could they possibly be up to? You'll put an end to it, right Dad? Last time they planned something, New York and I ended up getting chased by Madison into Lake Superior in the middle of January and nearly dying of hypothermia because Wisconsin wouldn't call off that damn attack badger."

"What is it with you boys and Madison?" America asked. "All I hear about from Minnesota and Indiana is that Madison scares them. Now I'm going to hear it from you and New York too?"

"Dad," Rhode Island said with a look of alarm on his face, "it's a wild animal and she treats it like a kitten. Minnesota gets cornered by it all the time and she coddles it and scolds him for 'scaring' it, like it could actually get scared."

"Who is Madison?" Italy asked.

The state looked at him with pity. "Wisconsin's pet badger, and her state capital. You guys will probably meet it later when you meet Wisconsin, so I hope you both have a rabies shot because it might be rabid. We don't really know. Minnesota says it is, we all think it is, but Dad and Wisconsin claim it's not."

"Do you really think I'd let her keep it if it were rabid?" America asked. "How irresponsible do you think I am? Anyway, I'll talk to Massachusetts later and alert your uncle."

"I'm the last of the original thirteen, so that means you'll be meeting the ones that had to work to gain their statehood." Rhode Island informed Italy and Germany before wrinkling his nose. "You'll be lucky if you even reach Mississippi. The next ten are… Well, they're a very diverse group of states, starting with Vermont and ending with Maine. Hopefully I'll see you at dinner. Good luck. You're going to need it."

* * *

 **I forgot I had this ready and I met to post it earlier. Oops.**

 **Rhode Island:  
** **Human Name: Ronald Luis Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Rhode Island  
** **State Nicknames: The Ocean State  
** **Eye Color: Light Blue  
** **Hair Color: Light Brown  
** **Human Age: 17  
** **Birthday: May 29, 1790 (13th)**


	15. Chapter 15

Vermont sat on his bed, coordinating his next plan of attack against Canada. The first time he had ever met his uncle, he declared a war on him. A maple syrup war, that is. It was all for good fun, and they had been posting "propaganda" against each other and exchanging "blows" for one hundred and some odd years, much to America's disapproval.

"No, no, no. He'll see it coming." he said aloud before glancing up a moose calf that was laying on a big dog bed in the corner. It was Montpelier, his capital. "Come on, Mont. Help me out here. We have to do something that Uncle Matt will never see coming."

The moose, needless to say, ignored him and started to chew on his hay instead. Vermont huffed and moved stray strands of his brown hair away from his violet eyes. "Well, excuse me, your majesty. I guess I'll have to ask Hammy for advice instead. No beets for you tonight since your hay is much more important than our war."

"What war?" America asked from the doorway, surveying Vermont carefully. "And I thought I told you to keep Montpelier in the barn."

"Madison, Salem, Springfield, and Denver are allowed in the house." the state protested. "Besides, it's cold out there and he would get lonely."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Just clean up after him. Anyway, I want you to meet our guests."

Vermont looked up and saw that his father wasn't alone. In the doorway of his bedroom were none other than Germany and Italy. "Oh my gosh! Dad, why didn't you say something sooner? Come in! Come in! I'm Henry Matthew Jones, the State of Vermont. It's nice to meet you both."

He jumped up from his bed and eagerly shook their hands, kicking his dirty laundry and trash under the bed as he made his way over to them. He noticed they were staring at Montpelier.

"Oh, that's my state capital, Montpelier. Say 'hi' to our guests, Mont." he ordered. Needless to say, the moose continued to ignore him. "Um, he kind of has selective hearing. You'd think after 200 years that he'd listen better."

"Ve~ What happened to your arm?" Italy asked, pointing to a rather large scar that had faded to silver a long time ago.

"Italy!" Germany scolded. "It's rude to pry into people's personal lives."

"No, no. It's fine. Um, my mom, the Vermont Republic, kind of went psycho after I was born, or so I was told. She suffered from postpartum depression, and she tried to kill me when Dad wasn't around in hopes that she would retain her status as a nation by doing so. Luckily, she didn't because that would've sucked since states, like nations, don't really die permanently unless we lose our status, but she still did scar me. It's kind of a reminder that my land at one time was a completely independent, abit short lived, nation before I was born. I'm one of only four states that actually has a mom, though. The rest just kind of appeared." he replied awkwardly. He didn't really like talking about it, so he quickly changed subjects. "So you guys met the thirteen, right? They probably made it sound like the rest of us are psychos, huh?"

Germany smiled a little. "I wouldn't put it like that. Rhode Island said you are a bunch of diverse individuals."

"Of course Rhodey would say something like that." Vermont said with a snort. "Anyway, I have to get back to coordinating my next plan of attack. I declared syrup war on my uncle a long time ago. He says his maple syrup is the best, but he's obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. Can I interest you both in a bottle of real Vermont maple syrup, a.k.a. the best maple syrup in the world?"

"Um…"

"Oh, come on. I'm even giving it to you for free. And you, Mr. Germany, can give it to Prussia and tell him how great my maple syrup is compared to Canada's. You won't find another deal like this."

"Vermont," America said in a warning tone, "I've told you time and time again not to-"

"Oh my gosh, Montpelier, you're a genius!" Vermont exclaimed, cutting off America. He picked up the laptop from the nightstand beside his bed and booted it up. "Excuse me, I have to go create a Twitter."

"Vermont, don't you dare take your syrup war to the Internet." America snapped.

"But Dad, I have to do this before Uncle Matt gets the same idea." the state whined. "Besides, it's not even that serious. You're overreacting."

"I swear to God if I get a call from someone in the Canadian government-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm grounded for eternity." Vermont said. "If you're looking for Kentucky, he's in the attic practicing that godawful banjo of his."

"And how do you know that?" America asked curiously.

Vermont shot him an unamused look over the edge of his laptop screen. "Because it's Kentucky. Between his banjo and his horses, it's a fifty-fifty shot at guessing where he is. Besides, that's where he said he was going."

* * *

 **I'm up to the Louisiana chapter. I try to type a chapter or two before I post the next chapter because as you can probably see, I get super busy and forget about this story.**

 **Vermont:  
** **Human Name: Henry Matthew Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Vermont  
** **State Nicknames: The Green Mountain State  
** **Eye Color: Purple (same shade as Canada's)  
** **Hair Color: Brown  
** **Human Age: 16  
** **Birthday: March 4, 1791 (14th)**


	16. Chapter 16

America lead Germany and Italy out into the hallway, muttering to himself about how he needed to be ready for the eventual call from the Canadian government. It wouldn't be the first time that Vermont took his syrup war too far, and he had a feeling that Canada's boss wouldn't find a Twitter account bashing the Canadian syrup industry run by the State of Vermont and his pet moose too funny.

"Why didn't you mention you were having a war with… was it Cannabis?" Germany asked.

"Canada." America corrected as he shook his head. "And no I'm not having a war with Canada, but Vermont claims that he is. It's more or less a joke between those two, but sometimes they take it too far. I don't know how many time's my boss has gotten mad at me because of Vermont bashing the Canadian syrup industry. Luckily, the humans don't really pay attention to it, otherwise both Canada and I would be in huge trouble."

"So the states don't get in trouble for bashing a foreign nation like that?" Germany inquired.

"Eh, yes and no. I yell at them and punish them, but officially no. I take the backlash for things like that, but they really don't do often enough for it to be a problem. Besides, do you really think that someone like Russia or England really cares what a state like Wyoming or Rhode Island, for example, thinks about them. It only ever becomes a problem when multiple states, especially states with large populations like New York and California, form negative opinions about other nations. Besides, the 11th amendment in the Constitution kind of prevents an individual state from getting pulled into court by a foreign nation. Ah-ha. Here we are." He reached up and grabbed a string that was hanging from the ceiling before pulling it and revealing a wooden ladder. He looked at the other two nations. "Wait right here and I'll get Kentucky. The attic's kind of a mess and you guys probably don't want to go up there."

America disappeared for a few seconds before reappearing and coming back down the ladder. A moment later, a red-headed boy followed him carrying what looked like a banjo with him. He jumped off of the last rung of the ladder and carefully put it back up into the attic before turning and facing the two nations. A friendly, laid back smile spread across his face, illuminating his emerald green eyes, which were similar to Scotland and Ireland's. He gave both Germany and Italy a firm handshake.

"How y'all doing? I'm the original George Jones, the Commonwealth of Kentucky." he said pleasantly. "And no, despite what Ohio and Indiana may tell you later, I'm not some hillbilly."

"What were you doing in the attic?" Italy asked curiously.

He held up his banjo. "Practicing. Most of my tone deaf siblings aren't too fond of bluegrass."

"You're a musician?" the Romance nation asked. "Ve~ I know a lot of musicians."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't put it exactly like that. Tenny's better and he can play more instruments. 'Bama's pretty good on the banjo too, and I think West Virginia's trying to learn. Eternity gets boring after a while, as I'm sure you're both aware of, so we like to pick up hobbies, like playing instruments."

"Hobbies are important to have." Italy said.

"Yes." the state agreed. "I heard you're quite the artist, Mr. Italy. Hobby you picked up?"

"Sì! I love art! I can talk about it all day."

"Yes," America interrupted, "I know you can but we don't have all day. If you want though, you and Kentucky can finish this conversation later though."

"I'd like that." Kentucky said. "Anyway, Dad, I'm assuming we're wearing meeting attire to dinner then?" America nodded in confirmation. "Ok then. I'll get changed, and I'll see y'all at dinner. Have fun meeting the rest."

* * *

 **I realized months after creating these characters when "He Stopped Loving Her Today" came on my Pandora station that I accidentally gave Kentucky the same name as the real-life country singer, George Jones. That was completely unintentional, I can assure you.**

 **Anyway, some few things to cover before I end this author's note. I love that you guys are giving me some insight into your state's personalities. I've had two guests give me advice on West Virginia and that's great. I appreciate it because I've never actually been West Virginia, so I have no idea what you guys are like down there, and your advice helps me accurately portray your state without being offensive. That being said, I do understand that some states are dynamically different within, but I will not be splitting California, Texas, New York, Michigan, or Florida into multiple parts. I've actually had these characters created for a long time and creating multiples of these states would just be too confusing. That, and I've outright stated there are fifty states in this story. I know some authors do split some states, but I'm not. Besides, if I do that for some, then I have to do that for literally everyone because all states are dynamically different within (i.e. rural vs. urban, north vs. south, etc.). That would just drive me crazy trying to keep track of which is which. I just thought that I'd get that out there.**

 **I really do appreciate the reviews, and thank you to everyone who helps. The only states that I'm really confident on personality wise are Ohio (obviously), Pennsylvania, and Colorado, so I appreciate any and all help you guys can give me.**

 **Kentucky:  
** **Human Name: George Roy Jones  
** **Official Name: The Commonwealth of Kentucky  
** **State Nicknames: The Bluegrass State, Tobacco State  
** **Eye Color: Emerald Green  
** **Hair Color: Dark Red  
** **Human Age: 16  
** **Birthday: June 1, 1792 (15th)**


	17. Chapter 17

Tennessee sat on the floor of his room with sheet music spread out around him and his guitar on his lap. He could play many instruments- the drums, the banjo, the piano, the fiddle, and the steel guitar to name a few- but the guitar was by far his favorite.

"No, no, no. That's not right." he huffed as he crumpled up the song he was working on and pitched it into the trash. He brushed a strand of red hair out of his face and adjusted the glasses sitting in front of his forest colored eyes before preparing to get back to work. But just as he was grabbing a fresh sheet, there was a knock on the door. "Come in!"

The door creaked open and America peaked his head into the door. "What's up kiddo?"

"Nothing. Just writing." Tennessee replied as he got up from the floor. "I suppose it's my turn to meet Germany and Italy, ain't it?"

America just grinned and moved out of the way, revealing the two countries themselves. The state set his guitar aside and walked up to them. Italy, obviously enjoying himself, waved. "Ciao, I'm Italy, and this is Germany."

"Benjamin Jones, the State of Tennessee. Y'all can call me Ben if you want." he replied with a lazy grin.

"So you're a musician?" Germany asked, gesturing at the mess on the floor. It was the only area in the room that was unorganized. Otherwise, the room was spotless. His bed was made, a blue corduroy jacket with "Tennessee Association" written on the back was hanging on the closet door, his state flag was proudly displayed over his desk, and various musical instruments were arranged neatly against the wall beside his desk.

"Err… Kind of. My state capital is Music City, the home of country music, after all. Of course there's always better, and I mostly like doing covers, but I do write some of my own music. And no, I will not perform it for you, so don't ask."

"Tennessee's too modest." America boosted. "His music's great!"

The state's cheeks turned bright red. "Nah, not that great. Anyway, so y'all are meeting us in order? I do believe Ohio's next. Ah, I remember when she was little. Those were the days."

"You mean the days you and Kentucky used to cut her braids, throw her in the mud, destroy her dolls, and push her out of trees?" America asked. "You want to talk about bullying, Kentucky and Tennessee were merciless when it came to Ohio. And my poor girl just kept on following them and trying to fit into their group."

"And she turned out just fine and learned to fend for herself." Tennessee replied with a chuckle. "She also learned the useful skill of making ragdolls and you never had to actually buy her one until she asked."

"And she only asked because she knew that if you two destroyed that one, then you would get in trouble."

Tennessee shrugged. "No one said she was stupid." He turned to the other nations. "Ohio was the first daughter outside of the original thirteen. You saw how my older sisters are more traditional, yes? Well, Ohio's not at all like them. Let's just say Kentucky and I may or may not have been a bad influence on her, which has affected all of my younger sisters after her."

* * *

 **Bonus points to whoever can guess what the blue corduroy jacket is. ;) I'll give you a hint. It's the one of the symbols of the largest youth organization in America, the other being a large golden emblem. Also, I have to fix formatting errors later when I get to a computer.**

 **Tennessee:**

 **Human Name: Benjamin Earl Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Tennessee**

 **State Nicknames: Volunteer State, Big Bend State**

 **Eye Color: Forest Green**

 **Hair Color: Light Red**

 **Human Age: 16**

 **Birthday: June 1, 1796 (16th)**


	18. Chapter 18

Ohio was just finishing buttoning her white collared shirt when her father and their guests knocked on the door. Their pickup football game had ended half an hour before when she and Michigan started fighting, but what was West Virginia expecting inviting both of them? Afterward, she decided to go get cleaned up and changed. Rumor had it their father wanted them in meeting attire for dinner. "It's okay to come in, Daddy."

"Getting ready for dinner?" America asked as he gestured for Germany and Italy to follow before sitting on her bed. Germany and Italy saw a strangely shaped flag hanging on her closest door, a poster that read "The Ohio State University" with symbolism that must have been associated with it, a gun cabinet in the corner by the desk, an old china doll carefully displayed on the dresser, and several older photos of her with various famous people from her state, such as the Wright Brothers, Thomas Edison, Neil Armstrong, Annie Oakley, several American presidents, famous generals, actors, and more. It wasn't as neat as Tennessee's room, but it was organized in a way that it showed the personality of its occupant.

"Yep." she replied as she sat down beside him and handed him a brush. "Could you? I'm horrible at it."

America gladly took the brush and began running it through her wavy brown locks. She smiled at their guests and gripped Germany's hand firmly. "Nice to met you guys. I'm Marie, the State of Ohio, the Birthplace of Aviation."

"Ludwig Beilschmidt, Germany." he replied before gesturing off to the side. "And this is Feliciano Vargas, Italy."

She glanced back at her father as he was finishing off her braid. "Is Tenny playing Waylon Jennings again? 'My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys'? Wonder what's going on with him that he's playing Outlaw Country again. Though it's nicer than most modern country though."

"Why do you think something's wrong?" America asked curiously.

"Last time he was playing Outlaw, it was when we were afraid New York was going to die. He was a combination of pissed off and scared." she replied.

"Ve~ why did you think New York was going to die?" Italy asked with concern.

"It was after 9/11. He was in really bad shape. So was Penny, Virginia, and Maryland. But New York was about the worse. We couldn't find him for days and he was really hurt when we did. He was unconscious for two weeks and Massachusetts cried the whole time."

"There you go." America said, handing her the brush back.

"Thanks Dad."

"You're not anything like Tennessee said you'd be." Germany commented.

An amused glint appeared in Ohio's blue-green eyes. "Oh, really? Well, I have to put on a skirt and pantyhose for dinner, but if I didn't, I assure you I wouldn't be caught dead dressing up and acting proper. I think Daddy told me one time that I don't have a ladylike bone in my body. Unfortunately, meeting attire for dinner." She turned to America. "Speaking of, Cali said Japan called. He and Uncle Mattie are coming for dinner. Tía said with everything going on, she didn't think it was a good idea to come. Doesn't want to talk politics right now."

"You almost sound disappointed." America teased.

"Me? Disappointed about talking politics? Never, Dad." she replied sarcastically. "Sometimes I can't even talk politics with myself because I can never decide. Republican or Democrat? I can tell you with 99% certainty that the next President of the United States is-"

America cut her off. "Okay, Ohio. I think Mexico's onto something because that's the last thing I want to talk about right now. See you at dinner. And make sure your pantyhose doesn't have a run this time."

* * *

 **Remember, this story doesn't really take place at a specific time. And I'm not talking about politics in this story. Just know that since 1944, Ohio has only been wrong once- 1960 when they picked Nixon over Kennedy.**

 **Also, finally my state! And you guys got my reference in the last chapter about FFA! You guys are awesome. It's the largest youth organization in the United States and has chapters in all fifty states plus Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands. Naturally, since FFA was my life in High School, I just had to include a reference to it. That's the side effect of living in a corn field and having everyone on both sides of my family involved in agriculture. I'm a second generation FFA member and the third person in my family to receive the State FFA Degree (from Ohio FFA, at that).**

 **Anyway, thank you guys for all of your support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this. I will go back later and fix formatting errors.**

 **Ohio:**

 **Human Name: Marie Margaret Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Ohio**

 **State Nicknames: The Buckeye State, Birthplace of Aviation, the Heart of It All**

 **Eye Color: Blue-Green**

 **Hair Color: Brown**

 **Human Age: 16**

 **Birthday: March 1, 1803 (17th)**


	19. Chapter 19

America lead Germany and Italy down the hall to an open door. Inside, a girl was laying on the bed reading a book in French. Like Ohio, she had on white collared shirt and a black skirt. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. America cleared his throat to get her attention. "You aren't busy getting ready."

"I'm waitin'." she replied, her words drawn out in long, slow syllables, which matched her smooth voice. "Cali's in the bathroom right now, and you know how long she takes. I think Florida's 'bout to go in and drag her out by the hair. I wouldn't blame her to be honest. She ain't the only one who needs to do her hair and makeup for dinner, ya know."

America chuckled knowingly as he adjusted his glasses. "I know. Why do you think I put a mirror in her room?"

"Well, you better get her ass out of that bathroom before you have a riot on your hands, Papa." she told him. "Go on. Don't worry 'bout them. I'll take good care of the 'em."

America raised an eyebrow but said nothing and left to go take care of the bathroom situation. The girl looked up from her book and smiled at Germany and Italy with a devilish glint in her olive colored eyes, giving Germany an uneasy feeling about her. He had heard from Connecticut how wild Massachusetts could be, but he felt this state could be worse somehow. Italy, however, was oblivious as ever.

"Ciao bella!" he greeted eagerly. "I'm Italy!"

An amused look appeared on her face. "Yes, I know. And don't let Papa or my brothers hear you flirting with any of us girls or else they'll kill you." She laid her book aside and rose from the bed before walking over to the larger nation. "And you're Germany, of course. I'd recognize you from anywhere."

"Wait, what?" Germany asked in shock.

The state just smirked. "Don't worry about it. We know all of y'all, y'all just don't know us. 'Cause you see, we're always in New York or D.C. when y'all are in New York or D.C. You just never seen us before, which is kind of surprising. Guess y'all are too busy fightin' to notice. Anyway, I'm Annabelle, the State of Louisiana. I assume you know my last name by now that I don't need to use it."

She beckoned them into her room as she walked over to the dresser and pulled something out that she just threw on the bed. Germany and Italy got a better look at the inside of Louisiana's room. Above her bed she had a flag that they assumed was hers proudly displayed. Various voodoo charms were laying neatly on her desk. Like Ohio, she too had a gun cabinet sitting in the corner, with a video camera sitting on top of hers. Various records, CDs, and movies were organized neatly on her dresser, with only one record- "Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man" by Conway and Loretta- out of place as if she had recently played it. Various books in French and English were in a small bookcase that sat beside her bed, with regular fiction and nonfiction on the bottom shelf and cookbooks and photo albums on the top.

"Like the decor?" she asked as she noticed them staring at her record collection. "We like to have our rooms match our personalities. Georgia's is neat as a pin just like her because of her dedication to her duties, whereas Vermont's is messy and disorganized because he gets caught up in whatever he likes to do. Ohio and Michigan both like displaying extreme amounts of state pride. West Virginia tries to make his as different from Virginia's as possible to distinguish himself from her. Tennessee devotes his to music while Nebraska devotes his to agriculture. You can tell a lot about us by the way our room looks: our interests, history, and so on and so forth. Once you get to know us though, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out who likes what. Anyway, Papa probably has Cali out of the bathroom, so I better get going. You're meetin' Indiana next? Have fun. If he says Ohio's on drugs or something, don't read too much into it; that's just Indy."

And with that, she scooped up what she had thrown on the bed and pulled out a beat up, blue makeup case, walking past America as she headed to the bathroom.

"See you later, Annabelle! Remember, meeting attire!" he yelled after her before turning to the other two nations. "Let's go see what Indiana's up to, shall we?"

* * *

 **Louisiana:**

 **Human Name: Annabelle Lydia Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Louisiana**

 **State Nicknames: The Pelican State, Creole State, Bayou State, Sportsman's Paradise**

 **Eye Color: Olive Green**

 **Hair Color: Dirty Blonde**

 **Human Age: 16**

 **Birthday: April 30, 1812 (18th)**


	20. Chapter 20

If Indiana had long hair, he would have split ends from chewing on it so much. But because he didn't, so pacing the living room was his nervous habit. He had texted Illinois an hour before, and she still hadn't responded. For all he knew, she was lying dead in a ditch with her annoying cardinal, Springfield, fluttering around her rigid corpse.

Maybe he was slightly over exaggerating, but his brain was wired to jump to the worst case scenario first and ask questions later. It was like that time he told his father Ohio was on heroin, but she actually just had a cold and it was cough syrup (but in his defense, his other concern about Ohio actually was right, and that was just as bad as a drug addiction).

"What's going on now?" his father's voice asked as he came down the stairs followed by Germany and Italy.

"I haven't heard from Illinois in an hour and I'm really worried. What if she's been kidnapped and sold into prostitution? What if she's been shot in an alley and she's bleeding to death? What if she's been hit by a drunk driver and is lying dead in the middle of the road? What if-"

"Enough, Indiana." America said. "Illinois is fine, she's upstairs getting ready. Just because she doesn't spend all day on her phone doesn't automatically mean she's been killed. Now, I'd like you to introduce yourself to our guests."

Indiana quickly regained his composure and shook both nations' hands. "What's up? I'm Alexander B. Jones, the State of Indiana. You guys can call me Alex or Indy if you'd like to."

"You're the one who called Japan." Germany noted.

Indiana's face flushed bright red. "Sorry about that. It was just chaos here, and Dad's better at handling it."

"Indiana's specialty is worrying about the others." America commented dryly. "Thanks to him, I know what everyone is doing at every hour of the day. He helps me keep track of everybody."

"Well that's not all I do." the state said hastily. "There's basketball and horticulture and racing. Indianapolis is also home to a lot of modern art. And of course there's always helping out with the National FFA Organization, which is located right in Indianapolis. Indianapolis is also one of three cities that has ever had the honor of hosting the National FFA Convention and Expo, with the other two being Kansas City, Missouri, and Louisville, Kentucky. And I love growing popcorn instead of just plain old dent corn like Ohio."

"I think Iowa has a bigger love of corn though." America commented.

Indiana snorted. "Okay, yeah, you're right about that. I'm not as crazy about corn as he is. But I do enjoy horticulture, which is dealing with crops and plants in case you guys don't know that. I'm particularly excited about the advances that are being made with GMOs, which despite what the European Union may say, are not harmful at all as nobody has ever died from them, reduce the use of pesticides, help solve world hunger as they allow us to produce a larger yield on less land and with less water, help prevent diseases associated with vitamin deficiency and malnutrition, and treat serious ailments like diabetes."

Germany and Italy just stood in silence for a moment. America broke the silence with an awkward laugh. "Indiana's particularly passionate about GMOs and agriculture in general. Not as bad as Nebraska, but he will defend them to the death. And he has the knowledge and sources to back it up."

"Sorry about that." Indiana said sheepishly. "I know how the E.U. views the whole GMO topic, and I shouldn't have ranted to you like that when you never brought them up to begin with."

"Nien, it's okay." Germany assured him. "As long as your debate is constructive and logical, I'm more than happy to listen to it even if I don't agree with it. Perhaps we can debate more about it later. Admittedly, I know they caught on easily in America and I'd like to know why."

The state smiled. "Sure. Iowa, Nebraska, some of the others, and I can sit down and talk with you sometime. I'm sure they'd enjoy it, and it might give a perspective on why people still don't trust them despite the fact that literally every credible scientific institution in the world has vouched for their safety and the fact that humans have been practicing genetic modification in agriculture since the beginning of civilization."

"As fun as this is," America injected, "we have a lot of states to get to. Indy's only number nineteen."

Indiana nodded in agreement. "Yes. Mississippi's next. Want to talk about a wild child? Just hope Alabama's not with her. See you guys at dinner!"

* * *

 **I've been working a lot on this story. I have it written up to Nevada right now, so I'm over halfway done. I've heard a lot of concerns about West Virginia, but I think you guys will like him. He's not hillbilly at all, which I saw was a concern. I've also been taking some of your suggestions into consideration. This fic is just to introduce my state OCs. I would really like to do a one-shot collection of them to explore their personalities and relationships. You guys don't get a really good look into their personalities and some of them have the bare minimum (they need a lot of character development and research on some), which is why I want to do a one-shot collection. But I want to finish this first to introduce them. I hope to have this done before I go to college so I'll be updating several times a week.**

 **Indiana:**

 **Human Name: Alexander Brandon Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Indiana**

 **State Nicknames: Hoosier State, the Crossroads of America**

 **Eye Color: Field Green**

 **Hair Color: Black**

 **Human Age: 16**

 **Birthday: December 11, 1816 (19th)**


	21. Chapter 21

Mississippi sat on the floor as North Carolina snipped away at her long brown hair. It had been forever since she had a haircut and the older state insisted since they had guests. But if there was one thing Mississippi hated more than the "pursuit of ladylike hobbies," it was haircuts. "You better not be givin' me some God awful bowl cut."

"Don't worry, I'm not." Caroline assured her. "Just trimin' all these split ends. You gotta look presentable for dinner. And don't worry, I have Charlie taking care of 'Bama's hair."

"God rest his soul when Alabama murders him tonight." Mississippi commented.

"Amen to that sister." Caroline said as she nodded in agreement. "That's why I had Charlie do it. He's a big boy; he can take care of himself. 'Sides, isn't Alabama afraid of Charlie?"

"No, he's afraid of Georgia because she took a pear switch across his ass when he was little because he almost killed Arkansas by pushing him into the bullpen." the younger state corrected.

North Carolina cocked her head to the side as if she was thinking. "I suppose you're right. But I was thinking South cracked him across the hands with a pot stick after he caught 'Bama yanking Florida's hair out hard enough to make her scalp bleed."

Mississippi shrugged. "That probably happened."

"If he wouldn't be so rough when he's messin' around, he wouldn't get in trouble the way he does." the older state commented. "I mean, I know he didn't mean for Arkansas to get hurt and thought it was a funny idea, but in hindsight after watching poor Arkansas nearly get gored to death by an angry bull, that probably wasn't the best prank to play."

Mississippi scoffed. "That idiot just doesn't think his 'bright' ideas through before doing them. He's just lucky Dad was in Europe when that whole fiasco went down. I mean, Daddy isn't harsh when it comes to punishment, but I don't think he would've been kind when dealing out that one, especially considering Arkansas spent a year recovering from it."

"What are you guys up to?" America asked from the doorway.

"Nothing much." North Carolina replied. "Just giving Mississippi a haircut." She ran her fingers through the young state's brown locks. "I think you're good to go, Darlin'. See y'all later."

The older state picked up her brush and hair clippers before walking out the door towards her own room. America, Germany, and Italy entered Mississippi's room. The room, like the others', clearly displayed her personality.

Her state flag was hanging proudly above her dresser, next to a college banner that said "Ole Miss". Like Ohio and Louisiana, she also had a gun cabinet in the corner. Cookbooks were stacked haphazardly at the foot of her bed, waiting to be put away.

"You look nice." America said, complimenting Mississippi's new hair style. He knew how much she loathed haircuts. "Caroline did a good job."

"If you want, I'm sure she'll do yours." Mississippi suggested with a mischievous glint in her warm brown eyes.

America laughed. "I think I'll pass. Do you think she could give 'Bama one?"

"Charlie's on that one."

"So should I call the funeral home before bed or wait until the morning?" the nation asked

"I think you should probably lock Alabama in his room before he has the chance to." Mississippi relied with a chuckle. She turned towards the two nations. "How are y'all doing? Hannah Norma Jones, the State of Mississippi."

"Hallo Mississippi." Germany greeted. "Should I be worried about this Alabama?"

Mississippi laughed. "'Bama's harmless. He just gets carried away is all. And he's slightly wild, but he'll probably be the perfect Southern gentleman to y'all. Nah, you don't have to worry about him. He knows to behave himself around company. Just don't talk politics around him or let him talk about NASCAR all day."

"Just as long as Mississippi and him aren't around each other." America said dryly. "He's my country boy and she's his partner in crime. When they're together, they come up with dangerous and stupid ideas."

"Some of them have good intentions." Mississippi defended. "You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men."

America chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Do you by any chance know where Illinois is?"

"Did you check with Indy first?"

"We just got done visiting him. He says he doesn't know where she is. He also thinks she's laying in a ditch somewhere, but I highly doubt that."

"Then try the library. Knowing her, she's probably reading something and just ignored his calls like always. See y'all at dinner!"

* * *

 **Mississippi:**

 **Human Name: Hannah Norma Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Mississippi**

 **State Nicknames: The Magnolia State, Hospitality State, the Birthplace of America's Music**

 **Eye Color: Brown**

 **Hair Color: Brown**

 **Human Age: 16**

 **Birthday: December 10, 1817 (20th)**


	22. Chapter 22

Illinois enjoyed peace and quiet, which is why she put her phone on silent. Indiana annoyed her to death when he started harping at her about safety and worrying about everything. Granted, she knew he couldn't help it, but she just needed to get away from him. She constantly felt like he was suffocating her.

She was curled up in the corner of the library reading Hamlet, her favorite Shakespeare work. Her pet cardinal and state capital, Springfield, was perched on her shoulder, his beady eyes staring at the page as if he were reading along. She knew she should probably be getting ready for dinner, but she didn't take forever like California. All she had to do was braid her waist length blonde hair. She didn't feel the need to cake on pounds upon pounds of makeup. Eyeshadow and mascara were okay sometimes, but putting on a full face of makeup every single day was impractical to her. She had other things to worry about than her appearance.

"Illinois?" a voice called from the doorway.

"Yes, Dad?" she replied to let him know she was there.

She heard America let out a sigh of relief as he pushed the door open and lead in Germany and Italy. Illinois closed her book and got ready to meet the countries. It wasn't the first time she met nations. Everyone of course knew Canada and Mexico (their Uncle Matt and Tía Rosa). They also all knew Japan, who met California and Delaware when America first visited him, and France (Uncle France), who was literally in the house when America first discovered Delaware. And the older ones were very familiar with Prussia because he used to babysit them before he decided to unify Germany. And of course they all knew at least one stepmother, countries that America kind of "married," who represented the land before statehood. Stepmothers like the Republic of Texas, Alta California, the Vermont Republic, and the Kingdom of Hawaii.

"What are you up to?" America asked.

"Just reading." she replied with a shrug. She fixed her steely gray eyes on their guests and waved to them. "I'm Bethany Jones, the State of Illinois. You guys can call me Beth if you want." She gestured to the bird on her shoulder. "This is Springfield, my state capital. Despite what you may have heard from Indiana, he's harmless unless you say Chicago is my capital. If you do that, well, he's trained to attack."

"Speaking of," America said, "why does Indiana think you're dead?"

"Who knows? I just put my phone on silent because I got annoyed with him. He's literally the only one who calls or texts me."

Springfield took off and landed on Italy's shoulder to investigate. Said nation looked like he was about to pass out. America laughed before holding out his finger for the cardinal to perch. Springfield, who's favorite person after Illinois was America, happily fluttered towards him and chirped eagerly at him. "Dude, you're going to have to toughen up or you'll never survive meeting Madison. That thing's ten times worse than Springfield."

"But she said i-it's trained to attack." Italy pointed out.

"Only if you say that Chicago is my capital. Or if you're Indiana or Missouri." Illinois said. "But you're good. He likes meeting new people."

"Why does he attack Indiana and Missouri?" Germany asked.

"Because they're annoying… And I trained him to. How do you think I got him to attack people that don't know my capital?"

Germany started mentally freaking out. "Noted."

Illinois laughed. "Don't worry. I like you guys. Anyway, I have to go get ready and you have to meet more states. I'm twenty-one, so you're almost halfway there."

"Yup!" America agreed eagerly. "Alabama's next."

"Good luck, seriously. He's psycho. I'll hopefully see you later." she said as she closed her book and got up. She kissed America's cheek and ran out the door to go get ready for dinner.

* * *

 **Don't worry, Alabama's not too bad. I love the idea of Illinois being annoyed with people who automatically think "Chicago" when they think Illinois, so that's why she has her attack cardinal, Springfield. It's a cardinal because that's the state bird of Illinois (and a bunch of other states, Ohio included).**

 **Illinois:**

 **Human Name: Bethany Carmen Jones (Nickname is Beth)**

 **Official Name: The State of Illinois**

 **State Nicknames: The Prairie State, Land of Lincoln, Corn State, Garden of the West**

 **Eye Color: Gray**

 **Hair Color: Blonde**

 **Human Age: 15**

 **Birthday: December 3, 1818 (21st)**


	23. Chapter 23

Alabama carefully slicked his eternally messy brown hair back with the gel he borrowed from New Jersey (leave it to the suave Italian/Spanish guy to have hair product). It was slightly easier for him to do now that South Carolina had trimmed his hair. Alabama despised haircuts, but he put up with it just this once because he needed to make a good first impression. Charlie had set the bar high for being a Southern gentleman (he didn't even have to try), so, naturally, Alabama had to outdo him. He was determined to be the most impressive of all the Southern boys, which shouldn't be too hard considering they caught Charlie smoking, Texas was too scatterbrained to think ahead, Missouri was probably too busy fighting with Kansas, Kentucky and Tennessee were too busy with their music, and Arkansas thought dressing up meant wearing the nicest pair of jeans he owns.

Alabama quickly button up his crisp white shirt that he asked Georgia to iron and fastened his tie (he couldn't be America's son and not know how to tie a tie). His shoes were freshly shined, so they practically reflected everything. He was also freshly shaved (the Duck Dynasty look unfortunately did not work for Alabama) and he didn't even nick himself, which was something he was super proud of.

He was fixing his collar when he heard the knock on the door. "Just a minute!"

He quickly slid on his shoes and tucked in his shirt before opening the door. Just as he thought, America was right there with Germany and Italy. Alabama stepped out in the hallway and shut the door behind him, since his room was in no shape for visitors.

America let out a low whistle. "Man, 'Bama, I didn't think you'd actually go all out. I'm impressed."

"Well, it is a very special occasion." Alabama replied.

"I gotta say, I like you clean shaven instead of that weird dead animal you had growing on your neck." Georgia commented as she walked past. "Whatever that was, it was nowhere close to the Duck Dynasty beard."

Alabama's face flushed. "Why didn't y'all tell me that it looked like a dead animal?!"

"'Cause it was funny!" Florida cried from down the hall.

"'Bama's clean shaven?" Arkansas yelled. "Someone get a picture!"

"He also got a haircut!" North Carolina chimed in.

"I didn't see any pigs flyin'." Louisiana commented as she stuck her head out of the bathroom. "You look good 'Bama."

"Yinz should be flattered." Pennsylvania informed Germany and Italy as she walked by with a laundry basket full of freshly ironed shirts in her arms. "Alabama doesn't clean up like this for just anyone."

America chuckled. "Alright everyone, that's enough. You can tease him later."

So much for a good first impression. With his ears still bright red, Alabama shook Germany and Italy's hands. "Pleasure to meet y'all. I'm Jacob Samuel Jones, the State of Alabama. You can call me 'Bama if you want."

"It's nice to meet you." Germany said hesitantly. "You're not what I was expecting."

"Ve~ Illinois said you were psycho." Italy added nervously.

The State laughed nervously. "Is that what she said?"

America put a comforting hand on Alabama's shoulder. "Jacob's very high strung and likes to have a good time. Sometimes, he gets a little carried away, but he's a good kid and he's perfectly sane."

"Mostly sane." Louisiana corrected with a shout through the bathroom door.

Their father narrowed his eyes, but ignored her. Alabama kept his mouth shut. The amount of trouble he would get in was not worth starting a pointless fight with Louisiana in front of guests. Besides, America was in a good mood, and Alabama liked to keep his father in a good mood.

"Anyway, Dad, do you want me to make sure the younger ones are getting ready since I'm pretty much good to go?"

"If you could, that would be awesome." America replied.

"Well, it was nice meeting you." he told Germany and Italy. "See y'all later."

* * *

 **Alabama:**

 **Human Name: Jacob Samuel Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Alabama**

 **State Nicknames: Heart of Dixie, Yellowhammer State, Cotton State, Lizard State**

 **Eye Color: Green**

 **Hair Color: Brown**

 **Human Age: 15**

 **Birthday: December 14, 1819 (22nd)**


	24. Chapter 24

Maine sat cross legged on her bedroom floor, painting her nails a shiny, sea colored blue. She always painted her nails before a big event, and this was the biggest event since forever. "I need new nail polish."

"You need to finish getting ready." Massachusetts said as he leaned against the door frame.

"You're one to talk, Mom." she replied as she glanced at him, brushing her strawberry blonde hair away from her ocean blue eyes. His hair was disheveled, his shirt and pants were wrinkled, his tie was just draped around his neck, and he was barefooted.

Massachusetts's nostrils flared. "Don't. Call. Me. Mom."

"Whatever, Mom."

Maine smirked as he stalked off, muttering angrily to himself about all the hexes that he was going to put on her. America knocked on the door frame. "What's up with him."

"Oh, he's just in a bad mood. Anyway, hello Mr. Germany. Hello Mr. Italy. I'm Sophia, the State of Maine. You guys can call me Sophie."

"Ciao!" Italy greeted.

"You missed it, Daddy. Florida smashed one of California's foundation bottles and California punched her. I don't think I've ever seen Cali that angry. It was so epic. I sometimes forget California's tougher than she looks and acts. Anyway, Cali insulted the Florida fruit industry after Florida asked her to get out of the bathroom. That's why the fight started in the first place."

"Seriously? Over getting out of the bathroom?" America asked. "Is that why Georgia was yelling at them earlier?"

"Uh-huh. Anyway, what are we having for dinner?" Maine asked as she put the finishing touches on her nails.

"Fried chicken, I think. And your Uncle's coming."

"Finally, somebody I can speak proper French with. Louisiana's is too much of Creole and Mo-Massy doesn't like speaking French. I just wish Uncle France was coming too."

"You know France?" Germany asked.

"Yeah, he was kind of there when Dad found Delaware. He loves checking in on us. He used to babysit us when we were really little. Back before phones. He'd come over and Dad would be out West, so he'd stay with us and wait for Daddy to come home. Prussia used to babysit us too, before German unification. For some weird reason, he really likes Massachusetts."

"Yes, somebody told me that earlier." Germany said. "I'm going to have to have a talk with my brother when I get home."

Maine laughed. "Anyway, Dad's kept us secret pretty well, huh?" England doesn't even know."

"Why?" Italy asked.

"Because when Delaware, the first one, was born, Dad and England didn't get along. He was afraid the older ones would get hurt. Then it just never came up."

"I never saw a reason to actively tell anyone. Lithuania and Romano don't even know and they lived with me for a little while." America said.

"Because they were staying in New York with you, some of us were in our own states, and the younger ones were with some of the thirteen. They never saw us because we were never around them. Dad would go to D.C. for 'business' but really it was because of us." Maine said. "Anyway, I have some business to attend to before I get ready for dinner. I'll see you guys in a little bit."

The three nations waved goodbye to Maine as they walked out to go on to the next state.

* * *

 **Before statehood, Maine was part of Massachusetts, so she calls him "Mom" as a joke. Maine, along with Louisiana, has the largest population of French speakers in the United States. I forget which one has more.**

 **Maine:**

 **Human Name: Sophia Isabel Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Maine**

 **State Nicknames: The Pine Tree State, Vacationland, Lumber State**

 **Eye Color: Ocean Blue**

 **Hair Color: Strawberry Blonde**

 **Human Age: 15**

 **Birthday: March 15, 1820 (23rd)**


	25. Chapter 25

America lead Germany and Italy to a room a few doors down from Maine's. He promised that they were almost halfway through. "Arkansas's number twenty-five, and we're on number twenty-four. Missouri shouldn't be too bad."

"How did you keep the fact that you have fifty children a secret?" Germany asked.

America shrugged. "Hard work and determination. I didn't mean to insult you guys by not telling you."

"Why did you tell Big Brother France, Prussia, and Japan?" Italy asked.

"Because France and Prussia were some of my first allies. I needed someone to watch them when they were really little. Once the thirteen got old enough, I stopped asking France and Prussia. But they still insisted on meeting the younger ones. Besides, that was unavoidable anyway. They were in the house when I woke up to Delaware. Then the reason Japan knows is because California was so young when I went to Japan that I couldn't leave her behind and it was beneficial to her since, at the time, she was the closest to Japan. I also wanted to teach Delaware how to interact with nations that aren't family. Delaware is my oldest, and I wanted him to know what to do if something were to happen to me. During the Civil War, he handled most of my correspondence and a lot of my duties." He looked at Germany. "I think you and him are going to get along."

"You trust us with them?" the blond nation asked with surprise.

America nodded. "I didn't used to, that's why I flat out refused to tell anyone if I didn't have to. The world is a lot different than when we first met. It gives me peace of mind to know that you'll be there if I'm not. Besides, they really like you guys. And anyway, there is some other ones I'm going to have to let know. I don't want them to think I don't trust them or anything, and I think they were suspicious anyway. They might already know and I didn't know they knew."

He stopped in front of a door and knocked.

"Coming!" a boy's voice called from inside. The door flew open to reveal a black haired boy with piercing light-blue eyes. He smiled when he saw them. "Hey Dad! Hey guys! I'm Lucas, the State of Missouri. I'd invite y'all in, but my room's kind of a mess."

Germany smiled. He enjoyed all the states. From formal Delaware to Missouri, who currently was only wearing a white collared shirt and a pair of boxers. He really couldn't wait to meet the rest. They were all so different, but they reminded him a lot of the countries, only closer and more familial.

He also felt a strange desire to protect them. They were so young and most likely vulnerable. They weren't nations, so they probably didn't have the abilities of a full fledged nation. There was also something weaker about their auras, but it was hard to notice when they were all together.

He wondered why his brother never told him. Prussia couldn't keep his nose out of other people's business, so it was no surprise that he knew. Still, Prussia couldn't keep a secret, at least not that Germany knew. Could he? It seemed like there was a lot more to the older nation than Germany previously realized. Now that he was thinking about it, he really should get to know Prussia more. Who knows how long his brother had left now that he had seemingly lost his status as a nation permanently? Seeing America around his states gave Germany the desire to form a closer bond with his brother. After all, Prussia raised him, and the older nation could be gone tomorrow for all Germany knew.

"-but Kansas told me that he's fine." Missouri was finishing telling America something that sounded important.

Said nation grimaced. "Is he in his room?"

"Yeah, I think Wyoming and Montana are .with him."

"Okay, I'll go check on him. Can you take these guys to see Arkansas?" America asked.

"Yeah, totally." Missouri replied. And with that, America took off. "Just let me get some pants on and we'll go find Arkansas."

The state disappeared into his room but reappeared shortly after wearing a pair of black slacks. He gestured for them to follow.

"Ve~ Where did America go?" Italy asked.

"One of my brothers had a seizure. Probably something going on in his state. Dad went to go make sure he's okay. He's fine though. It wasn't as bad as it could've been. Kansas, one of my sisters, said it was just like his brain shut off and came back on really quick; it was like someone flicked a light switch in it. Still kinda scary though."

"Ja, I can imagine." Germany agreed sympathetically.

"You know, it's weird to think that I'm older than an actual nation." Missouri said, changing the subject.

"What do you mean?" Italy asked.

"Germany wasn't unified until 1871, right, and I was born in 1821. So, Mr. Germany, I'm a whole fifty years older than you." Germany stood there dumbfounded as Missouri continued. "Everyone up until Colorado's older than you, since 'Rado wasn't born until 1876. That's super weird."

"Then why aren't you physically older than me?" Germany asked.

"Well, can't exactly be older than America, can we? I mean, if you go by colonization dates and yadda, yadda, yadda, then yeah, technically older. But we weren't born until the date we became a state. Nations can't exactly survive under a state constitution, so that wiped out anyone who carried our name before us. Besides, if it weren't for federalism, shared power between state governments and the federal government, we wouldn't exist. We kind of function like the European Union, only we can't override federal law and the Supreme Court's word is final. There's really no legal way for us to leave. We found that out during the civil war. Well, the Southern states found that out."

"I thought you were a Southern state?" Germany replied.

Missouri shrugged. "Eh, it's complicated. I was a border state during the civil war, but I was admitted as a slave state. I'm like part Midwest, part Southern. It depends on who you ask."

He lead them down the hall in silence for a few moments.

"Anyway, you guys are almost halfway through! And you haven't gone insane yet, which is a bonus! I bet you're excited. I'm number twenty-four by the way." the state told them. He stopped in front of another door and pounded on it. "Arkansas!"

This time, he said the state's name differently. Earlier, both he and America had pronounced it "are-can-saw", but this time Missouri pronounced it "are-kansas". Germany suspected he was doing it to make the other state mad. Just then, the door flew open.

* * *

 **Okay, long author's note alert. It's kind of important because it explains some concerns I've seen among other things.**

 **So I've been getting some reviews saying "Why is he called Italy? That's not fair to Romano." Allow me to clarify: in canon, literally every single character, except for Romano, always refers to North Italy as just Italy. That's what America knows him as; therefore that's what the states know him as. I know I'm not the greatest with canon (obviously), but I do know enough to know that the only character to call him "Veneziano" is Romano. So please do not say I'm being unfair to Romano in your reviews because I'm not, especially if you're going to point out canon mistakes. Point out my canon mistakes if you want, I don't care, but make sure you know canon yourself before you do. Does that make sense? I mean, it helps you guys out in the end. I do fact check when people point out my inconsistencies in canon to remind myself for future reference, so please go ahead and nit-pick away.**

 **Which brings me to my next point: where in canon does it specify that the house Lithuania and Romano stayed in while they were with America was located in Virginia? I went back through those strips and saw nothing that references America living in a specific state. And I don't remember the anime episodes of Lithuania's outsourcing specifying that they were in Virginia. It could be canon that he does live in Virginia, but I didn't see anything that said that. Am I missing something? Is it in an old blog post or a different strip or something? Please let me know. I'm genuinely curious as to where that piece of information is.**

 **I'm not mad or anything, I would just really like to know and I wanted to clarify that one thing because I have received several reviews about it. I apologize if I seem to be coming off as rude because that's really not my intention. I read all your guys' reviews and I like to double check things like canon because I know I have made some huge canon mistakes in here (that I tried to make up for, but that obviously could have gone better). I appreciate each and every one of your reviews, even the bad ones because they let me know what to improve on in the future. You all are entitled to your own opinions and I respect that. I will never, ever delete a review, unless it is something harmful, threatening, or offensive to anyone. You have a right to let me know what you think, whether you think this is the worst story in the history of mankind or the best story ever (though I will admit it is far from my best work, but to be fair, it is not my worst; that title would have to go to an old Kid Icarus story I published on Wattpad *shudders*). I mean bad reviews are upsetting to anyone (because who honestly likes receiving negative criticism; you're lying to yourself if you say you do), but you guys make valid points and you have every right to. So just know, I will never delete a negative review and will always keep the criticism offered in mind.**

 **To address some other concerns I've seen: many of these states need a lot of character development, and I know that, which is why I have a one-shot collection dedicated to them. Some of them, like Maine, have the bare minimum personality because I still need to do a lot of research. And don't worry, not all of them like France and Prussia. Just because they know those two or were watched by those two when they were little, doesn't necessarily mean they like them. I have old babysitters that I absolutely hate. I'm sure we all do.**

 **Do Romano and Lithuania actually know America's secret, and the states and America don't know they know? It's 100% possible. Just keep in mind that because a character says, thinks, or believes something, doesn't mean it's automatically true. They think it is and they lead us to believe it is, but it might not be. Romano and Lithuania don't have a POV in this story, so we don't know what they know and we don't have the full story. That's just something to keep in mind for any story you read, whether it's fanfiction or original fiction: you never have the whole story because there's always another perspective.**

 **You guys are really the greatest audience I could ask for. You give me advice, criticism where I need it, and praise where it is earned. You don't flame the reviews, and you're always mature. You always keep me thinking about where I can improve on my mistakes. You tell me what you like and don't like, and you tell me when I mess up. I value you guys' opinions and I appreciate you guys for helping to build me as a writer. So truly, thank you so much. End of long author's note. Sorry I rambled so much, I just felt I needed to address these things.**

 **Missouri:**

 **Human Name: Lucas Evan Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Missouri**

 **State Nicknames: The Show-Me State, Bullion State**

 **Eye Color: Light Blue**

 **Hair Color: Black**

 **Human Age: 15**

 **Birthday: August 10, 1821 (24th) for**


	26. Chapter 26

"What the Hell have I told you about that?" Arkansas demanded, his green eyes full of fury. "It's 'are-can-saw' not 'are-kansas'!"

Missouri just snickered. "Later guys! If Dad's not back, take them to Michigan."

Arkansas huffed angrily and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Ugh! Sorry about that. If I'd known y'all were there, I wouldn't have yelled at him. Missouri just likes to get under my skin. Jason Hunter Jones, by the way. I'm the State of Arkansas. Congrats, you're officially halfway through meeting all of us."

"So you're the last of the South?" Germany asked.

"No. You have Florida, Texas, and Oklahoma yet. Oklahoma's forty-six, so you have a while before you reach the last of us Southerners."

"Who all is classified as a 'Southerner'?" Germany asked.

"Well, it depends on who you ask. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, both Carolinas, and Virginia along with me, Florida, Oklahoma, and Texas are all generally classified as 'southerners,' but occasionally they throw Missouri and Maryland in there too. And West Virginia sometimes gets thrown in there with us. He doesn't usually like that though. I'm not quite sure what he is."

"I though Kansas was in the middle of the US." Italy said vaguely.

Arkansas frowned. "She is. I ain't Kansas. I'm Arkansas. Our names aren't even pronounced the same, despite the fact that they're spelled similarly. Missouri was just being an asshole, like always. But at least 'Bama didn't bring you to me. I'd have punched him in the face."

"You and Alabama don't get along?" Germany inquired.

Arkansas shook his head. "It's not that. 'Bama's kind of a trouble maker and I'm always on the receiving end of his pranks. Worse, he likes roping Missouri into them, and Missouri's stupid enough to go along with them. Just creates a contention. You know, usually people talk to me about my more well known siblings. The only thing that they find interesting about me is that Bill Clinton is from my state."

"I remember him." Germany agreed.

"One of only two presidents to be impeached." Arkansas replied with a smirk. "But my state is much more interesting. I mean, did you know that—"

Just then, America reappeared. "Sorry about that dudes. It was kind of an emergency. Anyway, I see you met Arkansas."

"Hey Dad." the natural state greeted. "We were just talking. Hey, can I go gator hunting with Louisiana and Florida next week?"

"I don't care. As long as you guys are safe and you don't fight, especially with guns around."

"We won't; we'll be safe." Arkansas assured him. "Thanks Dad! Anyway, you guys better get a move on. See y'all later."

* * *

 **I know I haven't updated in forever. College has made me super busy (anatomy with my very Russian professor who doesn't believe in study guides, *shudders*) and I like exploring the city on the weekends. I never lived in a city before guys, so it's super exciting. I've never used public transportation before, and it is so convenient and wonderful. Anyway with winter break coming up and me returning to the cornfield that is my hometown, I should be able to update more frequently. I am also working on a Ducktales 2017 oneshot that I'm super excited about. Also feel free to follow me on tumblr (my user name is booklover4816, just like it is on here), where you guys can ask me questions about the states, pester me about the next update, or see my cats (they're super cute and I always enjoy showing them off). I'd just like to interact with that social media platform more, so if you guys could help me out, that would be great. I'd love to interact with you guys more. So yeah, sorry about my unintended hiatus by the way.**

 **Arkansas's one of the states I have to do more research on because I admittedly don't know much about it. But that's something I'll do later. Also, West Virginians, what region do you classify your state as? One of you might have told me once, but I'm not sure. If you could help me out with that, that would be great.**

 **Arkansas:  
** **Human Name: Jason Hunter Jones  
** **Official Name: The State of Arkansas  
** **State Nicknames: The Natural State, Land of Opportunity  
** **Eye Color: Green  
** **Hair Color: Brown  
** **Human Age: 15  
** **Birthday: June 15, 1836 (25th)**


	27. Chapter 27

Michigan was busy working out while he waited to meet Italy and Germany. He was in the process of beating a punching bag with a picture of Ohio's last boyfriend taped to it. Being the good brother that he was, he automatically hated all of sister's boyfriends. They might fight, but Michigan would always be overprotective of his sister. That went for all his sisters, but he was especially protective of Ohio.

There was a knock on the door, which made him stop. He took of his boxing gloves. "Come in!"

America entered, followed closely by their two guests. Michigan smiled and waved to them. "What's up? I'm William, the State of Michigan. I'd shake your hand, but I'm kind of sweaty."

"Is that Ohio's last boyfriend,... What's his name?" America asked distastefully as he studied the punching bag. America wasn't too fond of any of the boys his daughters brought home, but he hated this one for some very specific reasons that Michigan didn't know. Whatever the nation didn't like about him, it was between America and Ohio.

"You mean douchebag? Yeah." the Great Lakes State replied as he to a drink from his water bottle and brushed his dirty blond hair away from his hazel eyes.

"If it were actually him, I'd kill that little bastard." America comment nonchalantly.

"You never told me why you didn't like him." Michigan said.

"That's between your sister and me. But 'douchebag' is not the word for him. Besides, telling you will only make you angry."

The state shrugged. "Fair enough."

"You're the one Ohio doesn't get along with." Germany observed.

"Yup!" Michigan agreed with a laugh. "Nutland and I have been fighting since literally the day I was born."

America smiled nostalgically. "She told me to take you back. Surprisingly, the only other times I heard that was when I brought Ohio and Washington home. 'Take him back, Daddy; I don't want him.' It didn't help that you spit in her face right after she said that."

"See? Literally since the day I was born. She and I were born to be rivals. Anyway, I do more than just fight with Ohio. I like to play football and hockey. And like to box. And I love fixing up cars and working with machinery. I also like going out on the lakes, you know, to fish and just hang out. It surprises people that I rank top in states with the most coastline. Basketball and baseball are fun too sometimes. Ohio and I sometimes go see the Toledo Mudhens if we're getting along. They're Toledo's baseball team. Not as big as the Indians or Reds, but still fun to go to. And if I get to choose, we go to a Detroit Tigers game, just never when they're playing the Indians or the Reds."

"You don't go to American football games?" Italy asked. "But you both like it?"

Michigan laughed. "That would be a disaster. We did it once and we were at each other's throats the entire time. If it's anything where our teams aren't against each other, then maybe. But if we're against each other, well, Dad doesn't allow that anymore. He says it gives him a headache. Anyway, I need to go get a shower. I'll see you guys at dinner."

Michigan grabbed what he needed and took off for the shower. Hopefully all the girls were done that there was a bathroom open.

* * *

 **Michigan is top five I believe in coastline, correct me if I'm wrong. I'm not quite sure which placing though. I knew at one point because my eighth grade history teacher, who is obsessed with the Great Lakes, made us learn about them and Michigan's coastline came up. Also, Michigan is secretly protective of Ohio. I think it would be cute to see overprotective Michigan every time his "most hated rival" brings home a new boyfriend.**

 **Anyway, still working on that new Ducktales one-shot and it's coming along pretty good. So, if that's your thing, then you're in for a treat (I'd like to think that, but you'll all be the judge of that). I'm hyping it up because I'm really excited due to the fact that I was able to draw on personal experience for it. I plan on working on it some more after my final tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday. It should be out by the New Year by the latest (depending on how life is going).**

 **If any of you all are aspiring OC creators, I have an article linked on my profile that popped up in my Facebook feed about how to avoid Mary Sues. The advice is actually pretty on point, and it is almost the same process that I go through when working with the states. It's definitely helpful for anyone out there looking for character development tips. I might try and look up more articles like it because you know, fanfiction is about helping other authors improve themselves. And I'm always willing to help if you need it. Send me a PM; I don't bite! I also beta, which is something I absolutely love doing.**

 **Also, I have my tumblr linked on my profile too (same user name as on here). I'd love to interact with you guys more because I get caught up in life and FFN is not really a great place to communicate. So give me a follow and feel free to send me an ask or something. It also helps me get used to a social media platform that I'm unfamiliar with, and that would be great if you could help me out. If the links don't work, let me know.**

 **But enough self promotion. As always, thank you to all of you lovely people for your support. And thank you so much to the guests who helped me out with that West Virginia question. I thought that was it, but I wasn't sure. Also, I know the chapters are short. I'm trying to find the right balance to keep them from dragging on. Anyway, arrivederci until the next update!**

 **Michigan:** **Human Name: William Allen Jone** **Official Name: The State of Michigan** **State Nicknames: The Great Lakes State, Wolverine State** **Eye Color: Hazel** **Hair Color: Dirty Blond** **Human Age: 15** **Birthday: January 26, 1837 (26th)**


	28. Chapter 28

Florida sat at the end of the hall with her curling iron plugged into the nearest outlet. There was a mirror at the end of the hall and not in her room because she didn't want to have to clean it all the time. And America had a rule that nobody was to hog the bathroom just to use the mirror (it was California's favorite rule to break). She pulled some strands of her thick brown hair out of the clip so she could curl it.

"Ah, mi pelo estúpido." she muttered as it got tangled in her fingers. That was the downside of having long, thick hair. "Why didn't I just braid you?"

She got it untangled and went back to working on her hair. She hoped none of her brothers walked by since she was just wearing her pantyhose and her shirt. At least she was almost done.

"Having fun?" Alabama drawled.

"Go away, Alabama. I'm busy." she replied.

"Well, I can see that. I ain't dumb, baby sister."

"Alabama," she said as she turned to face him, "I'm practically half naked. You don't want to get a reputation as a perv, do ya?"

"You ain't naked! If you were, I wouldn't have come up to you."

"I said practically half naked. I'm wearing pantyhose and a shirt."

"Y-You're not!" Alabama sputtered, his cheeks flushed bright red. Alabama would never disrespect his sisters like that by hanging around when they weren't decent.

"Yup! At least I'm wearing panties underneath." Florida replied with a mischievous glint in her gray eyes. "But still, I'm half naked cause you can see them through my pantyhose."

Alabama quickly left his sister alone. He was not about to start talking about his sister's undergarments. That was something he never, ever wanted to discuss. Florida laughed as she watched him retreat.

"What's so funny?" America asked as he came closer.

"I was just telling Alabama how he shouldn't be around me because I'm practically half naked."

America raised an eyebrow. "We can come back later."

"Nah, it's fine. I'm covered. I didn't tell him I have a blanket on my lap. I really don't care. If I were actually naked, yeah I'd mind, but you're good." she glanced up at America. "What? I wouldn't prance around the house in my pantyhose. Besides, do you know how easy it would be to snag them on the floorboards? These things are freaking expensive."

"Remind me that I need to go buy you are mirror. Or better yet, I have plenty in the storage closet. You can pick one out tomorrow."

Florida scrunched her face up but shrugged. She glanced up at Germany and Italy. "Anyway, I'm Gabrielle Jones, the State of Florida. You can call me anything but Gabby. I despise that nickname. Texas used to call me that, then I broke his nose. Speak of the devil, you'll be meeting him next. Lucky you."

"Well," America said, "we'll let you get back to your hair. In the future, please refrain from sitting in the hallway with just your pantyhose on. I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

 **Another short chapter, I know, but Florida needs a lot more character development. I'm fairly certain there are some longer chapters coming up. I'm up to Nevada right now, so I need to get the lead out and start writing more.**

 **I know I posted this last chapter, but I have a tumblr (the user name is the same as on here and I have it linked on my profile), so I'd really appreciate it if you could give me a follow (if you have a tumblr). I would really love to interact with you guys some more, and I'm more than happy to talk about upcoming states (if yours hasn't come up yet). Plus, it's easier to communicate there than it is on here.**

 **Thank you all so much for your support, and I'll try to get the next chapter up when I get time (probably after I go back to college since my mom and I are baking this week).**

 **Florida:**

 **Human Name: Gabrielle Louise Jones**

 **Official Name: The State of Florida**

 **State Nicknames: The Sunshine State, Orange State, Alligator State, Everglade State**

 **Eye Color: Gray**

 **Hair Color: Brown** **Human**

 **Age: 15**

 **Birthday: March 3, 1845 (27th)**


End file.
